


Hell When You're Around

by Clytaemnestra



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And they can both be mean, Angry Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fuckbuddies, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Mild Angst, Okay so Bucky's in it now, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, So does Steve, There's more angst in it than I originally thought, Tony and Steve can both be dorks, or are they?, so does tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clytaemnestra/pseuds/Clytaemnestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony have angry sex and lots of rows and everything falls apart and then is glued back together. Basically my theory is that they have a lot of chemistry but they don't work very well in an actual romantic relationship (not just the two of them, anyway). There will be a lot of swearing and misunderstanding and pressing each others buttons, sometimes by mistake.</p><p>Let me know what you think!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Then I Fell On His Lips

"--and maybe if you just followed instructions for once in your damn life, Clint wouldn't be in the hospital right now!"

"Oh right, sure, that's my fault as well, glad we're all clear on that! Everything is always Tony Stark's fault, yep, that's just fucking _fantastic._ " As the last piece of armour comes off, Tony heads straight for his bar, knowing Steve is following him. 

It's bad enough that Pepper left and Bruce disappeared to find himself; now Clint’s unconscious and Nat is refusing to leave his side and it's just Tony and Captain Perfect. And JARVIS, but he's no help.

He tunes back in. Steve is still ranting.

"--you are such a self-centred, arrogant little--"

"Wow, I'm goddamn arrogant?" Tony is beyond pissed off now, slamming down his bottle of scotch to point at Steve. "Who exactly set himself up as the daddy figure of our dysfunctional little family and tries to give orders like we're fucking children?"

Steve rips off his helmet and crowds Tony against the counter. His voice is deadly. "Stark. This is my job, my duty, and you do _not_ get to tell me how to do it."

He's never able to explain to himself (or anyone) why he kisses Steve then. Maybe it's because he's always had a thing for being bossed around. Maybe it's just the way Steve's hair is sticking up from that ridiculous helmet. But he does it, he kisses him right on his stupid mouth, and after a moment of shock Steve kisses back viciously, grabbing Tony's shoulders so hard that he leaves bruises.

He pulls Steve's hair to get him closer and is bitten as a reward. He's surprised to hear himself moan, and pulls away. Steve's eyes are wide and his mouth is red. "What are we doing?" Tony says, breathless.

Steve swallows. Tony watches his throat move. "I don't know. But." God, he has nice skin. "I also don't want to stop."

Tony shrugs both internally and externally, and kisses him again, just as hard as before. Steve works his hands under Tony's ass (which feels great), then lifts him and heads for the living room (which feels better).

Tony is dropped unceremoniously onto the leather sofa before Steve climbs on top and is kissing him again, one hand clamped onto Tony's face like he thinks Tony might be going somewhere. So Tony reassures him, raking his nails down Steve's back and arching up into him. He feels a thrill right down to his bones when he realises how hard Steve is right now.

Despite all the belts and zips, it doesn't take long to get Steve out of his suit, and Tony was already only in his under armour. He also happens to keep lube in strategic places (old habits die hard, haha, get it) so he digs out a tube and a condom from under the sofa. "Use this," he says in a voice he doesn't quite recognise, then flips over onto his hands and knees.

Steve doesn't say anything, doesn't ask any questions for once, just slicks up his fingers and slides one into Tony, flawlessly finding the right spot just _there_ and of course Captain America is awesome at sex, for fuck's sake. He quickly adds another finger and Tony makes a noise that would be embarrassing if he wasn't so fucking turned on. He makes an even more embarrassing noise a few minutes later when Steve pulls both fingers out, but then he hears the sound of the condom tearing open and that makes up for it. He braces himself against the arm of the sofa.

"You ready?" Steve breathes into his ear, husky and deep, and god that's hot, and he can feel Steve's dick pressing into the top of his thigh, and -- 

"Yes," he begs, "'Please, fuck me, just fucking-" Steve slides into him in one smooth movement. "Fuck!"

Captain fucking America grips Tony's hips with both hands and drives into him again and again, while he clings desperately to the sofa with one hand and jerks himself off with the other because hey, he's never been shy. 

God, it was beautiful with Pepper but it was never like _this_ , it was never anywhere near this intense, and Steve is _so fucking good_ \-- 

Steve chooses that moment to slap Tony’s hand away from his own cock and take over, slamming into him and stroking him at the same time, setting a punishing rhythm for both of them. Tony doesn’t mind; in fact it’s better, it's fantastic, and he just pushes back harder, unable to get enough, until suddenly he does and comes all over Steve’s hand and the sofa with a string of curses.

Steve doesn’t take much longer to finish, biting down on Tony’s shoulder to keep himself quiet, which is a shame. Then he slips out, and they just breathe for a second, pointedly not looking at each other as the real world seeps back in and Tony calculates a tip for the cleaning lady.

Then Steve just gets up and leaves, slamming the door behind him, and the room is suddenly cold and Tony is alone.

*

Clint comes back the next day in a wheelchair, Nat beside him. Tony tries not to look at her, but then feels like she’ll be able to tell what happened just from that (if not from the suspiciously well-cleaned sofa), so he looks her dead in the eye.

She raises an eyebrow. He must have 'got fucked into oblivion' written all over him. But she says nothing. Not that she really can: Clint is complaining nonstop about his cast and how his leg is already itching and how his wheelchair is too heavy to do anything fun with.

Steve comes in with an easy smile, and acts so much like they weren't defiling the communal living room a few hours ago that Tony almost questions whether it happened. Only almost, though; his body won't forget any time soon. But hey, acting like stuff didn't happen is something he is very good at.

They watch yet another James Bond film (Steve sits on the other side of the room, very subtle, thanks a lot) and order ludicrous amounts of pizza for lunch, and it's almost normal. 

To be honest, 'almost normal' is good enough, and in the spirit of that Tony stays up in the lab all night. He knows it's been all night because Steve comes to see him wearing different clothes.

"We need to talk," he says.

"Good morning to you too," Tony says around a screwdriver. This is usually how he ends up with grease on his face, but it washes off. Most things do.

"Tony, it's half past three in the afternoon." Whoops. Steve comes further into the lab, crossing his arms in that familiar disapproving way. "Did you stay up all night? Again?"

God he's annoying. "What's it to you, Mr Pump and Dump?"

"I don't know what that means-" Tony opens his mouth. "-but I can guess." He closes it. Steve sighs, suddenly looking very tired. "Listen, about the other night...I'm sorry. We were both angry and exhausted and worried, and it was a mistake. I'll keep my hands to myself in future, and I promise it won't happen again."

Tony looks at Steve, not sure if he heard correctly. He even takes the screwdriver out of his mouth, though he doubts Steve recognises that as the compliment it is. "Do you think you...what, took advantage of me? Seriously?"

The confusion on Steve's face is amazing. "I...well, yeah."

Tony snorts. "I am a fully grown adult human, Cap. I am capable of choosing who I fuck and in what position. Don't flatter yourself thinking I was overcome by your masculine charms into bringing dishonour on the family name, or whatever the fuck. Besides, I clearly remember begging you _not_ to keep your hands to yourself. So don't bother adding hatesex to your incredibly long list of things to feel guilty about."

There's a shocked silence. Then: "Okay."

Well, that's unexpected; but he recovers fast, always has. "Glad that's settled. Now get out of my lab before I set Dummy on you."

He goes, and Tony refuses to feel bad about it.

*

Steve is really weirdly polite for days after that (when they're not avoiding each other, that is). He doesn't even respond when Tony teases him about the Commandos. It gets so bad that eventually Nat corners him while he's getting a late night/early morning caffeine fix.

"What happened with you and Steve?" She demands, appearing out of literally nowhere. He narrowly avoids spilling boiling coffee all over himself.

"Holy mother of _God,_ woman!"

She doesn't smile, which is a really bad sign because usually she finds the prospect of him injuring himself hilarious. "Something happened while Clint was in hospital."

"That's not a question, so I don't have to answer it." He's quite proud of that reasoning at horrible o’clock in the morning.

Her eyes narrow. "Don't make me hurt you, Stark."

She definitely would. "Alright, so, we had a fight." He shrugs at her. "No big deal, we do it all the time."

"Exactly. You do. So why's it different this time?"

He shrugs. "It was a big fight."

"Tony." Oh God, she sounds like Pepper when Pepper was really really mad. That never ever ended well. "Tell me."

"Okay, fine, so we might have had some really awesome angry sex--" Nat says something virulent in Russian. “What?”

“He thinks you hate him.”

He blinks. “Why?”

She looks at him. "Talk to him," she says, but it sounds more like 'you're a fucking idiot'.

*

Tony waits for a more suitable time of day to knock for Steve, because he's actually not a complete jerk.

Steve has clearly just come back from one of his ridiculously early runs, and holy shit seeing him all sweaty like that should not be this sexy.

"What is it, Tony?"

"Um." Crap. He hasn't thought this far ahead. Steve already looks mildly irritated. "Nat was really terrifying and made me come talk to you "

"Real nice, Tony." 

Crap on a stick. "No, I mean, she said you thought I hated you? Which is, you know. Totally not true. And I wanted to tell you that."

"You said we had hatesex," Steve points out, crossing his arms. He hasn't smiled once.

Crap on a stick with a bow on it. "Yeah. I did say that. But I was all...working, and not paying attention, and running on empty. So. I didn't mean that I hated you. Because I don't. Sorry."

Wow, Tony, so smooth. Steve looks at him closely, then nods. "Apology accepted." 

"Well. Good."

There's an awkward pause. "Did you need anything else, or...?"

Tony jumps. "Nope, no, I'll just..." He backs away from the door. "You look hot," he blurts, and holy shit brain what the fuck was that, and he doesn't run away because Starks don't run away from anything. He's just walking more briskly than usual.

So he’s not quite sure if he really does hear "So do you." But he hopes he does.


	2. Another Bad Habit For My List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seems like they just can't keep their hands off each other.

Things get back to normal for real after that. He snipes at Steve, Steve fires back, and Nat catches his eye in the jet and nods in approval. Once.

Then Tony gets trapped in a collapsing building, but hey, he took out a giant robot and it looked really cool, and somehow the only pain he’s in is from a sprained ankle so he doesn't mind going out like this. Not really.

His comm crackles. "Tony? Tony, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Cap," he croaks back.

"Where are you?"

"Come on, didn't you see the giant explosion? Pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah, we all saw it, and we are going to have words about that. Where are you - top, bottom, middle?"

What. "Approximately ground floor level, maybe just below, east side.” Something clicks in his brain. “Tell me you're not coming in after me."

"Sure I am." Steve grunts like he's lifting something heavy.

"Whoa, hey, I’m a goddamn engineering genius and I’m telling you this thing is totally unstable! Do not come in here, the whole building could come down any minute--” He sees a small patch of light suddenly appear about ten metres away. “Please say that’s not you right now.”

Steve’s actual head pops through. “Hey.”

“Oh my god.” There’s an ominous creaking somewhere not too far above him. Steve’s still crawling through the wreckage. “No no no, go back, you go back right now! I am using all of my special expert authority to tell you to get the fuck out of this pile of death--”

Steve reaches him. “Alright, so you got a cinder block on your leg. Is your suit still working?”

“Yeah, but the repulsors will take everything down if I use them. Also, go away.”

“I’m not leaving you, Tony. I lost too many people already.” Steve picks up the gigantic piece of cement. “Get to the hole. I'll be right behind you.”

Tony doesn’t make a joke about that because he is very mature and also not about to get crushed to death when there’s an exit right there. He hears another rumble just as he makes it outside and scrabbles around for Steve’s hand. He grabs it and fires his other repulsor, yanking Steve out just before the whole thing finally collapses.

They fly backwards, Steve landing right on top of him. “Well, this is cosy.”

Steve actually blushes as he gets up. It’s adorable.

*

Their truce doesn’t last for long. Steve meant it about having words about the last incident, and invades Tony’s lab just a few days later.

He has his arms crossed in that way he does when he's trying to control himself. “It was a really, really stupid thing to do, and you didn’t even tell any of us before you did it. You _cannot_ just go off book like that.”

“It saved the day though, didn’t it?” Tony pours himself another whiskey. He sees the muscle in Steve’s jaw twitch. He must be trying really hard not to yell. 

“That’s not the point, and you know it. The point is you constantly disobeying my instructions, or just making your own up, when we are meant to be a team. If I can’t rely on you to listen to me, I can’t rely on you for anything.”

“Sure you can. It’s just sometimes I have a better idea.”

“Tony-!” Steve slams both of his hands on a workbench, then very obviously counts to ten in his head. “I need you to promise me that you will never put yourself in danger like that again.”

“You know me, Cap,” Tony says, tossing back his drink. “I’m an unpredictable son of a bitch.”

“Well, can you at least tell me before you do anything stupid? And--” Steve sees him immediately pouring another. “--can you put a drink down for five goddamn minutes?"

“I’ll think about it.” It's not like Pepper's here to scold him.

“I’m being serious, Tony!”

“So am I,” he grins. Steve’s jaw tightens, then he steps close and knocks the alcohol out of his hand. “Hey, asshole!”

“That’s another thing,” he says. “You need to get control of your drinking.”

“Well, maybe you--” Tony sticks his finger into Steve’s ridiculously huge and judgemental chest. “--need to get control of your superiority complex.”

Steve bats his hand away. “You are in absolutely no position to tell anyone about having a superiority complex, Mr Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist.”

“Yeah, well, I’m standing in front of the guy who volunteered for medical experiments so he could feel better about himself--”

This time Steve kisses him first, and god it’s as good as the first time, all heat and biting teeth and fuck Steve’s hands are on his ass already-- “Wait wait wait.” He gasps for breath, hating, absolutely hating to do it, but he needs to know. “Didn’t you say we weren’t doing this again?”

“Yeah.” Steve is flushed. Tony wants to see how far down it goes. “Yeah, I did. You’re right.” He does a quick mental check that the world hasn’t stopped spinning. “We should stop.”

So Tony kisses him, because no they definitely shouldn’t stop, and please please let Steve agree with him on this one thing. He drops one hand to check. Yep, that feels like agreement, and Steve groans into his mouth and does that thing where he carries him around, but this time not very far. He just sweeps all the tools off one of the lower workbenches and dumps Tony onto it. This is literally turning into one of Tony’s fantasies.

Except - “No lube,” he warns, even as he’s shoving Steve’s pants down. 

“We can do other things,” Steve says, and his voice is all rough with desire again and why did they ever say they would only do this once? 

Tony’s shirt has come off at some point and Steve’s face in the glow of the arc reactor is so fucking gorgeous, but then he's taking Tony’s jeans and underwear off and oh Jesus his mouth, oh god. 

He grabs at the sides of the workbench to avoid shoving his hands in Steve’s hair and just fucking his throat, even though by the looks of it Steve wouldn’t mind too much and, yeah, that’s definitely his tongue. It doesn’t take long for Tony to come after that. 

Steve climbs up his body to kiss him, tasting like sex, and amazing as that is Tony really wants to return the favour. He flips them over so he’s on top, feeling Steve’s cock hard and leaking against his thigh, and yeah that needs to get in his mouth right now because it’s just as irresistible as the rest of Steve. 

It turns out that Captain America makes the hottest noises on the planet when he’s getting sucked off, all gasps and bitten-off moans. Afterwards, he drags himself back on top of Steve and sort of collapses there.

“So,” he says when he’s got his breath back, “Is this a thing now? Are we...a thing?”

Steve is quiet, his hand slowing where he’s been stroking Tony’s hair. “Do you want to be?”

“Oh god yes,” Tony says, and emphasises it by kissing Steve again. “I’ve barely been able to stop thinking about the first time.”

“Me too. And this is...nice.”

Tony looks at him, incredulous. “Nice? This, Steven Grant Rogers, is some of the most stupendous sex available on planet earth. And I should know.”

Steve drops his head onto the workbench with a thud. “Can you not mention all the other people you’ve had sex with?”

He shrugs. “It was relevant.”

“Yeah, well. Call me old-fashioned--”

“You are.”

“--but I don’t like being reminded of how many people you’ve been with while we’re still naked together.”

“Well, you got it, babycakes.” He drops a kiss on Steve’s forehead.

“Thanks.” A pause. “Babycakes?” 

“Oh, you don’t like that? How about...honeybuns? Pudding? Pumpkin? Lovemuffin? Ooh, no, cuddle muffin, that’s way better--”

Steve is laughing and naked in his lab. Tony is very, very proud of himself.


	3. I Got Words Like Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have their first bad fight.
> 
> Also, no prizes for guessing who Steve's last boyfriend was.

They decide not to say anything for a while to avoid an interrogation with Fury. Meanwhile, morale within the team improves; missions go smoother, quicker. Natasha definitely knows what’s happened - she even winked at Tony once, which was maybe the most terrifying thing she’s ever done. Clint remains oblivious. 

Tony takes time to find all the things that Steve really loves; figures out how sensitive his neck is, memorises the way his eyes darken when Tony pulls him down. How he really does like getting his mouth fucked. All that good stuff.

Pepper notices, of course, tilting her head at him through the screen after an update on the Berlin tech scene.

“Is that a hickey?”

He grins. “Probably. Got a lot of ‘em lately.”

She'd smiled, looking genuinely pleased for him. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Guy, actually.” She’d raised her eyebrows, because although he swings in literally all directions it really has been a while since the last guy, but he rushed on before she could ask more. He doubts Steve would appreciate being outed yet. “How about you? Got your sights set on anyone? Because you know I have to vet them first.” He tipped his beer in her direction. “They’ve gotta be good enough for my Pep.”

Her face had brightened immediately. “I have, actually. No one you know.” Then she was off, telling him about a rocket scientist she’d met at a conference, and his chest didn’t hurt too much when her eyes lit up about someone else. He counted it as a win.

*

The first time Steve stays the night, he has a nightmare. Tony wakes up to cool air on his skin and Steve thrashing around in a welter of blankets. He touches Steve’s shoulder; he's covered in a cold sweat. “Steve?” He makes a strangled noise as he jolts awake, scrambling out of the bed before he remembers where he is. Then he sinks his head into his hands, gasping for breath. Tony gets up, sitting down next to Steve. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’ve been talking about it ever since I woke up,” Steve says quietly. “I don’t think it’ll help.”

He had wondered where Steve went on Tuesday afternoons. “Well. Sometimes therapists don’t help so much when you know they can’t actually understand exactly what you went through.” Steve looks at him in the light of the reactor, eyes shadowed. Tony clears his throat. “I don’t think I ever told you how I got this,” he says, gesturing at his chest.

“I read the file,” Steve says, and Tony immediately forgives him for thinking his SHIELD file contains even half the story because it is almost 3AM and hey, even Captain America’s brain can take a while after a nightmare.

“Yeah, but I didn’t _tell_ you,” is what he says, and then leans his head against the wall, as he tries to find the right place to start. He ends up in the middle. “Listen. They held me underwater multiple times until I thought I'd die, until I eventually said yes, I'd make their weapons. Then Yinsen sacrificed himself for me, and I had to leave him there to die. And when I got back home, I immediately had so many cameras in my face I got sick of my own reflection, which as you know should be an impossibility.” He’s rewarded with a weak chuckle. “Then a guy I’d trusted my whole life tried to kill me and Pepper. Fucker nearly got us, too. So there’s not many therapists out there that can convincingly empathise with that. Not even with every dollar in the world.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pretended I got better. It didn’t help," he admits. "But everyone else thought I was okay, so that’s close enough, right?”

There’s a telling silence. Steve’s voice is very small and very young. “Does it at least get easier?”

“Why do you think I drink so much?” He can’t help snapping that, just a little bit. 

Another pause. Then Steve curls his fingers around Tony’s. “I shouldn’t be so hard on you.”

“Nah. If it weren’t for people like you and Pepper and Rhodey, I’d probably have drunk myself to death years ago.” His stomach twists suddenly as he realises what he’s just said, so he stands up before Steve can respond, pulling on his hand. “Come on. Back to bed, sweet cheeks.”

He pulls the blanket over them both and presses his nose between Steve’s shoulder blades, inhaling his clean scent and definitely not thinking about drowning, because then he’ll be the one with the nightmares. Instead, he thinks about how stupidly stubborn Steve is, how obviously in need of help, or at least in need of someone to talk to. 

And then he apologises mentally to Pepper, and vows to make it up to her.

*

They get away with it for maybe three weeks. Then Thor arrives to help them out in a particularly nasty mission involving several giant and apparently acidic robot centipedes - seriously, centipedes, who even thinks of that? 

It starts as a normal debrief. Steve’s taking it extremely seriously, Natasha is nodding along and occasionally adding details, Clint is making sarcastic comments, Thor is trying to be helpful, and Tony is playing Candy Crush. It finally, finally grinds to an end - the meeting, not Candy Crush, that’s the best game in the world - but then Fury says “Anything else I need to know?”

Thor’s face brightens instantly. “I would like to congratulate the Captain and the Man of Iron on their romance! I am proud to see them fight like true shield brothers,” he says, because Thor is apparently way more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.

“Wait, what?” says Clint as Steve splutters. Nat leans back in her chair, one hand over her mouth, and for fucks sake she’s _laughing_ at them. 

Fury turns his one eye on Tony, so he throws his hands up in defeat. “Yeah, fine, alright, I am enjoying a pretty regular Steve Rogering--”

“Tony--!”

“--but it’s not like it’s affecting the team, because clearly at least one of them didn’t notice and _you_ didn’t either, so if that’s all I would like to go home now.” He turns to Steve, who looks like he just got caught taking a shit on the American flag. “We were gonna get found out sometime, cuddle muffin.”

Thor looks sheepishly at them. “Did I do wrong, friends?”

“No,” Fury interjects. “This is exactly the kind of thing I need to know about. I’d like to speak to Captain America and Iron Man alone.” 

Clint claps Tony on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck, man.”

The door closes, and Fury crosses his arms. “So. I take it you don’t need me to explain why there are rules against fraternisation.”

“No, sir.” Steve says, sitting up straight. His face is serious, but a muscle in his jaw keeps jumping like he’s grinding his teeth.

The eye is turned on Tony until he shakes his head. “Good. Then listen up. Realistically, I can _not_ afford for either of you to leave the team. It took me a long fucking time to get this initiative together, and it’s been worth every second.” He leans forward, hands clasped in front of him. “But _believe_ me, the first inkling I get of this thing impacting badly on your work or your team mates, I _will_ make you regret it. You will not fuck this up.” 

“Yes sir,” Steve says. Privately, Tony thinks he’d like to see Fury try. But he nods anyway, because honestly that’s the only option right now.

“Thank you. Now get out of my office. I got some calls to make.”

*

The first big fight ambushes them both on what should have been a good day. Or night, or whatever. Steve has managed to drag Tony out of his lab on the grounds that he wants somewhere comfortable this time (which means Tony makes a mental note to get a proper bed into the lab) and now they’re kissing on Steve’s bed.

Sometimes, he thinks he’ll never get enough of kissing Steve, especially when he’s in Steve’s lap, and even more especially when tiredness is just starting to wash over him and everything is slowed down to just them, just this.

He moves his hips in small lazy circles, luxuriating in the slow burn of arousal and the feel of Steve's hands running over him. Yeah, he could do this forever. 

"Tony?"

"Mm?"

"Can you-- I mean, would you..."

Tony pulls back, strokes his thumbs along Steve's cheekbones. He's blushing. "What is it?"

"I want you inside me," Steve says, all in a rush like a confession. And holy shit, Tony suddenly computes what he just said, and yesyesyes fuck yes.

Steve's seen something in his expression and is smiling, a little nervously. "Have you done it before?" He figures it's always a good idea to check.

"Yeah. But not since..."

"The forties," Tony supplies helpfully, when Steve seems lost for a phrase.

"Yeah. Not since then."

"Okay, well..." Tony gently pushes at Steve til he’s lying down. "We’re gonna go slow, and you're gonna tell me if you need to stop. Deal?"

"Deal."

He keeps his promise, because holy shit seventy years is a long time, and he is determined to make it good for Steve.

So, first he sucks Steve's cock until he's practically crying, with one lubed up finger pressing slowly into him - a little more, a little more, and _that's_ the noise he was looking for, well done Tony. He moves back up Steve’s body for more kissing, patiently stretching him until he can add another finger. The hitch in Steve's breathing could be a warning. "You okay, princess?"

"Yeah, fine, I'm- I'm really good."

"Alright, cool, because you _feel_ really good," Tony kisses the side of Steve's neck, keeps his fingers moving until Steve grabs at his shoulders, urging him on. He just adds a third finger, and gets a frustrated growl. "I'm ready, Tony--"

"Alright, just a little longer," Tony promises, because he'll be the judge of that thank you very much, and it's not like he hasn't been on the verge of coming since Steve suggested this. And anyway, it doesn't take much more time for him to be relaxed enough for Tony's standards.

He's so turned on right now that his hands are shaking as he rolls the condom on, and then he pushes inside, slow and easy. And Steve's face is. Wow. Eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip, and then he opens those eyes and sees Tony watching him, so Tony reaches out to tangle his fingers in Steve's hair, pressing their foreheads together as he just sinks into Steve as if he was always meant to be there. 

He starts moving, just a little, just enough, but then Steve's hips start rising to meet him and he's hanging onto his control with a thread; so he distracts himself by curling a hand around Steve's dick and starting to stroke him, grinning when he hears Captain America swear.

Even so, he can't resist speeding up, and god this is maybe the best sex they've had so far, and Steve is wrapping his legs around Tony's waist and urging him on, and soon he's got Tony fucking him steadily. 

He moves his hand from Steve's hair to the headboard and moves faster, not letting up on Steve's dick, and suddenly Steve throws his head back and shouts and comes everywhere, and that's all it takes for Tony too because jesus _fuck_ Steve is the sexiest thing on planet earth.

Tony slides the condom off and lets it fall limply to the floor, then plasters himself to Steve's chest, catching his breath. "So."

"So." He's not looking, but he can hear Steve's smile.

"Best sex since the forties?"

"Best sex since the forties."

Tony does a mental fistpump. "I knew it. The other guy can kiss my ass, whoever he was." Steve doesn't laugh. "What happened to him, anyway?"

"He died in battle," Steve says coldly, and Tony feels his stomach plummet.

"Shit, Steve, I didn't mean--"

"Hey, don't worry about it." Bitter. "Not like you know what it feels like to lose someone in a war."

Okay, so Tony fucked up, but _that_ is supremely unfair. "What the fuck do you think Afghanistan was?"

"That's not fighting on the front line and you know it," Steve snaps. "And you're the one who made those damn weapons in the first place."

Tony sits up, all equilibrium gone. "You think I don't know that? You think I, a fucking engineer, haven't personally counted exactly how many thousands of people are dead because of me? You know what it feels like, to carry that around?"

Steve looks evenly at him. "No," he says, and he doesn't need to add _because I wouldn't have made those weapons in the first place._

"Fuck you, Steve!" Tony rolls out of bed, snagging his underwear and jeans. "JARVIS, turn the lights on in the lab and set up those engine schematics Fury sent me." He picks up his t-shirt. "And lock the damn doors when I'm inside. Delta protocol."

"Yes sir."

Tony storms out of Steve's room and jabs fiercely at the elevator button. 

"Tony, wait," he hears behind him, but thankfully the doors slide open and he steps inside. He doesn't turn around.


	4. If I Never Have Another Morning Like This It’ll Be Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make up. And there's a fight -- a proper one. 
> 
> Also what was originally meant to be a ten chapter story may well be quite a bit longer...we'll see!

He wakes up when Dummy pokes him, and last night hits him in a wave of hurt and hangover. There's a piece of paper stuck to the table next to his face.

It's a post-it note, and it says _You probably don’t want to see me right now. But for what it’s worth, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings._ It’s branded with Captain America's shield, and it takes a minute for him to realise it's one of the stupid pieces of merchandise Tony had left in Steve's room months ago as a housewarming gift.

He pushes himself into something like a sitting position, head pounding. There's a half-empty bottle next to him, top screwed firmly on (not by him). There's a post-it note on that as well. It says _And I'm sorry I made you feel like drinking this._

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Did you let Steve in last night?"

"He did have your override codes, sir."

Wait, what? "Who the fuck gave him those?"

"There was an outgoing call at 1:53AM from Captain Rogers' room to Ms Potts’ personal line, sir."

Turns out Captain America can be a sneaky little shit. And, wait, that means Pepper knows that they're together and oh Christ _that's_ going to be a conversation.

Tony sighs when he finds two more post-it notes on the lab door. On the inside, it says _I'm sorry you locked yourself in here._ On the outside, it says _I'm sorry I drove you away._ So, two new things: Steve really knows how to commit, and he is definitely going to need caffeine for the inevitable conversation they’re going to have.

Clint is in the kitchen, eating Froot Loops. He gives Tony a once-over. "You and Steve had a fight, huh?"

Tony starts the coffee machine, then winces immediately when it starts grinding. He needs to invent a silent version. 

God his head hurts. 

"How did you guess?" 

"He looks about as shitty as you do.” Clint drinks the milk from his bowl. “What'd you fight about?"

"Oh, you know, about what a terrible person I am and how I killed like a million people," he says lightly, leaning on the breakfast bar. "And I think I insulted his dead ex-boyfriend."

"Well, I'm _definitely_ not touching that one."

"I can give it a try," Rhodey says, stepping out of the elevator. He raises an eyebrow at Tony's expression. “I got a call from Pepper. You’re dating Captain America now?” Tony lets his head thunk onto the counter before letting Rhodey drag him onto the balcony. “So. Talk to me.”

“Not much to say,” Tony lies smoothly. “It just kinda happened.”

“Tony.” Oh, it’s the don’t-fuck-with-me voice. Tony takes a moment to consider the number of people who have special voices for talking to him. "Starting a relationship with Captain America is definitely not something that 'just' happens. Spill."

"We had a really bad argument that time Clint broke his leg, and it got pretty heated. And then it got heated in a different way." He waggles his eyebrows. Rhodey remains unmoved. "We thought it was a one-off, but the same thing happened the next time we fought. And then we both realised we didn't really want it to _stop_ happening."

"And now?"

Urgh. Tony sighs. "Now he's mad at me because I said his ex-boyfriend from the forties could kiss my ass and I'm mad at him because he basically said it's my fault Yinsen died, and then I woke up to post-it apologies everywhere."

Rhodey smiles. "Cute."

"Shut up."

"So. You gonna accept his apology?"

"I haven't thought about it yet.”

"Liar." Rhodey turns sideways, leaning on the railing, and looks at Tony for a minute. "You really like him, don't you?"

That freezes something in Tony for a second; not quite fear, not quite surprise. “Maybe,” he says eventually.

Rhodey just nods. Damn him.

*

Eventually Tony goes to the gym, because that’s where Steve always is when he’s upset. There are already two ruined punch bags on the floor. Steve actually jumps a bit when Tony clears his throat. He isn’t smug about that at all. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Steve says, shoving his hands in his pockets. There’s an awkward silence where neither of them are really looking at the other, and then they both speak at the same time:

“I didn’t mean to--”

“What I said last night--”

They both stop. Steve gestures for Tony to speak first, because he’s a gentleman like that and Tony is not. So he bites the bullet, crossing his arms to keep himself together enough for an apology because god knows he’s bad at them.

“I didn’t mean to shit on your history, your-- what did you call it back then, your best guy?” The smallest smile. “I just say stuff sometimes without thinking. And believe me, it can be really hard to think around you. So I’m sorry about that.” He hesitates, then thinks _fuck it_. “But I can’t guarantee I’m gonna get much better at not saying the stupid crap that comes into my head or that I won’t ever hurt your feelings, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that I always manage to do that eventually.”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay. I can deal with that.” He runs his hands through his hair, still a bit damp from where he’s been sweating. “And I’m sorry for calling you a naive warmonger with no sense of history or respect.”

“Oh, is that what that was?” Steve looks unsure, so Tony grins a little to let him know he’s joking. “I kinda got that from all the notes, anyway.”

“Well. It was...incredibly shitty of me. I didn’t know if you’d wanna see me.”

It is absolutely impossible to stay mad at him. “I always wanna see you. Even when you’re all sweaty.” He steps close to Steve, puts his hands tentatively on his waist. “Actually, I kinda like it when you’re all sweaty.”

Steve smiles softly. “You’re gross.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who's totally soaking--” Steve kisses him, still smiling, and it loosens something in Tony that he hadn’t realised was all twisted up. Feels like happiness.

*

The next mission they’re called in for doesn’t involve centipedes; it’s worse. Some sort of horrible creature from the black lagoon type monster with way too many tentacles and eyes and teeth. Just looking at it makes Tony want to take a shower. And it’s somehow landed right in the middle of Central Park.

“So,” Clint yells through the comm after successfully exploding a couple of eyeballs and a flailing tentacle, “How do we put this thing down?”

“Like eating an elephant,” Steve says grimly. He throws his shield, cuts one huge limb off at the root. “One piece at a time.”

“And you’ve all seen Steve eat, right, so this should be a piece of cake,” Tony says, and down on the ground he sees Steve turn around and look straight at him, and even from this far away he can tell that his expression is something along the lines of ‘I am going to throw the shield at you if you don’t shut the hell up’. “Alright, I take it back, I’ll make it up to you later--”

“Stop right there, Stark,” Nat interrupts.

“Yeah, I really don’t wanna think about you and Captain America doin’ it when there are tentacles waving around in my face--”

“That’s enough!” Steve barks. “Clint, take the longer tentacles before they can smash more buildings. Natasha, you’re with me on the ground. Tony, look for a weak spot and hit it as hard as you can.”

Tony does not make a joke along the lines of how he’d rather be hitting something else because that is Steve’s serious business voice. “Aye aye Captain,” he says instead, and decides that if this thing has a brain it’s probably in the weird round blob that seems to be a body. Hell, maybe it's just a brain with tentacles. He flies over, switching to his and Steve’s personal channel as he goes. “So, about making it up to you…”

“Tony, not now--”

“No one can hear us, cupcake--”

“That’s not the--” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees a blur of red white and blue fly past him and smash through at least two trees. “FUCK!” He abandons everything, dodging tentacles and goo and god knows what else, landing on one knee next to Steve and flipping his visor up. “Steve?!” He’s unconscious, and bleeding, and Tony can’t wipe it away because his hands are made of metal. “Oh, God, Steve--”

“Behind you!” Nat shouts, doing that thing where she’s suddenly _there_ , and Tony grabs Steve and rolls just as a gigantic feeler slams down where they had been. She takes one look at Steve and makes a decision. “He’s breathing, but we can’t move him. He got hit so hard I don’t know if even his spine could take it.”

“What do we do?” Tony says, panicking in a way he hasn’t since Stane took Pepper. 

“We distract the monster, kill it, and deal with Steve later,” Nat says grimly. So they do, because Tony needs to not feel useless and it is a huge Lovecraftian nightmare and technically, _technically_ making sure it doesn’t kill hundreds of people is more important than if Steve is -- if Steve is --

He ducks just in time. “Focus, Tony!” Nat again. 

“I’m trying,” he says, and he is, _he is_ , but it takes him longer than usual because he keeps seeing Steve lying on the grass. Finally the thing stops twitching; starts melting, in fact, but they’re all so covered in grey slime that it barely makes a difference. He immediately goes back to Steve, puts a hand on his shoulder, calls his name again.

And, oh, Christ, his eyes flutter open, and focus on his face. “Tony?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” He remembers what Nat said. “Can you move your arms? Legs?”

Steve sits up in answer, though not without wincing. “What happened?”

“You got hit.” The words are like ashes in his mouth. “It was my fault. I was talking to you.”

“Well, what else is new?” He manages to stand, though Tony has to catch him a little bit. Steve lets him wrap an arm around his shoulders as they start to limp away. “Fury’s gonna love this, huh.”

Tony’s pretty sure the opposite is true.


	5. I Would Buy The World To Make You Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these are taking a while; I've gotten way busier since I wrote my last fic! Hopefully the chapter after this won't take so long.
> 
> Anyway. This is some nice domestic fluff before everything gets fucked up. Steve and Tony come out in public.

Tony’s right. They sit exhausted in Fury’s office - Steve had refused to go to hospital and Tony’s just beginning to understand the frustration of that. That inexorable eye flicks between them. “So. You were distracted.”

“Yes sir,” Steve says.

"By him." 

That muscle in his jaw jumps again. "I don't recall."

Fury raises an eyebrow, says mildly: "Hit your head hard enough for amnesia, then?"

"I don't recall."

"Steve, come on. It's my fault. I shouldn't have distracted you with that personal channel."

"Personal channel?" Now both of Fury's eyebrows are raised. "Stark, tell me you did not hack into the code for our secure communications. Again."

"Oh come on, a child could break that encryption--"

"You said everyone had one!" Crap. He did tell Steve that.

But: "They should," Tony says defensively, because he does actually have a legitimate reason for this. "What if half of us are doing something covert and stealthy together and the other half are all guns blazing? It's stupid to have everyone listening to everyone else all the time."

"You know what, Stark," Fury says, standing up, "Why don't you work on that during your month's suspension from the team." It's not a question - is, in fact, a punishment - and Fury leaves the room before Tony can protest. So it's just the two of them left in the room. 

"You lied to me," Steve says quietly, sounding too tired to be angry.

"It was a half truth," Tony says, just as quiet, just as tired. "I was gonna make them for everyone anyway."

"Well, I guess you have time to do that now." He gets up.

"Steve--"

"It's okay, Tony. I'm not that mad. I just need to sleep." He leaves, still limping, shield down like it’s suddenly heavy for him, and Tony’s heart sinks with something like guilt.

*

Nat watches him disapprovingly. He knows she knows why Steve was caught off guard and nearly killed, and that she's disappointed he'd be so reckless. But she doesn't say anything. Somehow that's worse. He stews in it for a whole day before Steve comes to see him in the lab - no longer limping, thank god.

"Hey."

"Hi." Tony looks up from where he's rewriting literally all of the code for SHIELD's communications. "Am I out of purgatory?"

Steve crosses his arms. "Self pity doesn’t suit you, Tony."

Ouch. "Ah, well, if no one else will pity me..."

"Listen, I don't care that you hacked into SHIELD--"

"Could've fooled me."

"--I care that you made me part of it without telling me what you were doing. I think you're right about private channels. They'd be useful." Steve smiles at the expression that must be on Tony's face. 'What, you think I never bent the rules in the war if it helped me do my job?"

And there's clearly still so much Tony doesn't know, so much of history that has clearly been glossed over and whitewashed until it glowed. "I guess I figured you only did it when it was important."

He steps closer, puts a hand on Tony's hip. "I was a queer man in the army," he points out. "Just by being there I was bending the rules."

Tony would make a pun but now Steve's right here and his brain doesn't really work when he's so near. "My bad, I guess," he says instead, looking at Steve's mouth, and then they're kissing softly, and Tony's apologising without words and Steve's silently saying it's okay.

They have a quiet couple of weeks after that. He makes some more punch bags for Steve, Nat and Clint leave for and return from a super-secret mission without him noticing, and a drawing of all four of them appears on the fridge. 

In it, Nat and Clint are playing cards; she's wearing that smirk she gets when she's winning, and he has his brows drawn together in confusion. Tony is drawn separately, in profile in front of his screens, in the middle of talking and working at the same time. Steve's portrait is typically self-deprecating: he's sitting on the sofa with his laptop, cartoonishly shocked at whatever he's reading. Tony looks at each picture for a long time.

Then he gets one of those texts he...well, doesn't hate, because he doesn't hate anything to do with Pepper, pretty much the opposite, but he at least heartily dislikes these particular messages.

_From: Pepper  
Don’t forget about the International Engineering Festival Ball tonight. It’s a big one, 50 years, and you’re guest of honour. And no I can’t go instead, because I promised them your actual physical presence. PP  
P.S. Wear the Fioravanti tux and the platinum cufflinks.  
P.P.S. You have a +1. A certain all-American hero springs to mind…?_

Fuck. He stares at the phone for a second, then turns back to his suit. His _real_ suit, the metal one, not a black and white costume. He spends a while hammering his annoyance out with a little more force than necessary. Then he thinks what it would be like if Steve came.

“Dammit, Pepper,” he says under his breath, because he sees what she's done and she knows that Steve definitely won’t have a suit and that Tony loves, _loves_ pampering his partners. “JARVIS, call Steve.”

“Rogers speaking.”

“Hey, sweetie pie, it’s me.”

“Are you ever going to give up on the pet names?” Tony can hear Steve smiling. He definitely loves the pet names. “What’s up?”

“Pepper’s insisting I go to some fancy black tie dance tonight to shmooze with whoever thinks they’re the next big thing in engineering these days. It's me, it’s always been me since I was 15, but I figure it's nice to indulge them. Anyway, thought maybe you’d like to come along, save me from people with terrifying hair, eat all the canapés.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Steve says, and that's definitely not a no.

Tony checks the time and grins. “We’ve got time to pick something up.”

Okay, so this might actually be fun. And dammit, Pepper definitely thought of this.

He picks Steve up from an annoyingly hipster coffee shop in the flashiest car he owns, just to embarrass him, and -- "You did this just to embarrass me," Steve says. Tony winks and pats the seat.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping."

He takes him to the only tailor in NYC that he trusts - good quality, good service, and guaranteed silence. Plus, British, which is always fun.

"Edward," he proclaims as he strides through the doors, "I have an incredible once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to clothe the most beautiful specimen of humanity in existence."

The tailor raises an eyebrow, looking blandly at Steve with the assessing expression of a man who is measuring someone to the inch just with his eyes. "The pricings will stay the same, Mr Stark."

"Do I want to know how much this is gonna cost?" Steve mutters like the enormous buzzkill he is. 

"Nope! And nobody--" Tony looks significantly at Edward. "--is going to tell you, so you may as well just shut up and put up." He points at the wooden block near the back of the shop. "Hop up on that and Eddie here will make you the most beautiful tux you've ever seen, probably..." Tony steps back, assesses. "Hm, let’s go with a narrow shawl collar, single breasted jacket with one button, athletic fit."

"An excellent choice as ever, Mr Stark." He delicately rolls out his measuring tape, nudging Steve to open his arms out, while Tony amuses himself by picking out shirts and ties and other accessories. When that's done, he drags Steve (complaining all the way) down the road to find shoes and use up Edward’s two-hour turnover time.

When they get back, he insists on Steve trying the suit on right away. The fitting room is full of understated silver furnishings and blue satin, glowing softly in extremely flattering lighting. He steps out from behind the curtain and oh god, oh god, this is the best idea Pepper has ever had.

He stands, slides his arms around Steve’s waist. “You,” he says, “look amazing.”

“You think so?” Steve turns to the mirror, and then does a double take. “Um.”

“See.” Tony kisses his neck. “Amazing.”

“I...Tony, I can’t take this. This is…I barely recognise myself.” He glances down, back up, dazed.

“Steve. Honey. You look like a billion trillion dollars. More. Priceless.” Tony meets Steve’s eyes in their reflection. “You deserve to look like what you are.”

He ends up buying him several shirts and ordering two more suits.

*

“So,” Tony says in the limo, “I need to ask you if we’re together tonight.”

It takes a minute for Steve to get it. “Is it going to be a problem?”

“Only if you mind it being all over the papers tomorrow morning.”

He looks sardonically at him. “Yeah, because I’m so unused to the media.”

“You’re not used to this,” Tony says quietly. “If you do this with me, you’re entering a whole new level of fuckery. They will follow you around, call you, email you, ask everyone you’ve ever said hello to for gossip about you - and some people will just make shit up, and they'll happily report it. So I need you to tell me if you’re prepared for that. And if you’re not, it is absolutely okay if you’d rather just be BFFs tonight, and not a newly-outed American icon who is also Tony Stark’s supersoldier boyfriend.”

The car stays quite as they pull up to the entrance, and then Steve’s hand covers his and he’s dragged onto the red carpet. There’s the tiniest shocked pause, and then the cameras start flashing and don’t stop, which is exactly why Tony brought shades. He figures that Steve must have super strong eyes as well as everything else, because he barely blinks, just smiles wide and waves like Tony isn’t clinging to his other hand like a lifeline.

All of this happens in a split second, and then he gives himself a mental shake and plasters on his patented Stark smile for the press. He lets some of his real pride show through - but only a little. Can’t have the press thinking they know him.

“Captain America, how long have you been gay?”

“Mr Stark, when did this new affair start?”

“Hey, Tony, how does Ms Potts feel about this?”

They ignore it all until they get to the door. Then Steve stops Tony with a hand on his face and kisses him, as if they’re the only people there, smiling when he pulls back. “May as well give them what they want, right?” And that's. Just so Steve it takes Tony's breath away.

The rest of the night is one of the most enjoyable balls he’s been to - and he’s been to a lot. Steve charms everyone he comes across and Tony doesn’t even get drunk, because it’s actually fun with Steve there. he gets to explain 21st century science things and introduce him to people and watch everyone subtly fall over themselves to meet Captain America.

Pepper texts him a few hours after they get home.

_From: Pepper  
Well done. PP_

_To: Pepper  
Aren’t you going to yell at me for the PR disaster that just got dumped on your lap? T x_

_From: Pepper  
Tony. After all this time, you being in a happy, monogamous relationship with America’s favourite soldier is actually a plus. Steve will be great at press conferences. PP_

_To: Pepper  
You’re my favourite. Have I ever told you that? I’m telling you now. You’re my favourite and I love you. T x_

_From: Pepper  
Go to sleep, Tony. PP_


	6. But It All Went To Hell Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a little while! For clarification: I will be updating this approximately every weekend. 
> 
> In this chapter, there is a BIG ARGUMENT. Also, say hello to Tony's insecurities.

Pepper sets up an interview for them with the New York Times a few days later, and the picture of the two of them joins Steve’s drawing on the fridge. The next day, a surprisingly well-drawn cartoon of Clint being sick joins them.

*

__  
**Iron Man and Captain America: A Match Made In Heaven?**  
Rosie Jones 

_It has to be said: the two of them do make a remarkably handsome pair. Stark is dark and suave, Rogers tanned and, as we all know, with the physique of a particularly fit Greek god. The telltale marks of a new relationship are all there: lingering glances, small unnecessary touches, body language that leans into each other like a couple of teenagers. It’s sweet, particularly considering Stark's chequered history._

*

It’s good, being with Steve. _Really_ good. Not just the sex, though he still praises everything holy for that every night; now they’re getting to actually know each other. 

It turns out Steve can be wickedly funny, and way smarter than Tony first gave him credit for - privately, Tony thinks he deliberately lets people assume he’s a dumb patriot just so he can surprise them later. Plus, he loves Star Trek - and Tony loves that Steve loves it.

Tony still spends time in his lab, but more often than not Steve’s there too, drawing in a corner and chatting to JARVIS, because he's not actually as much of a technophobe as they all pretend he is. It does mean he gets nagged about eating, sleeping, generally keeping to some sort of regular schedule. And Tony doesn’t even mind it that much. 

He wakes up once to Steve turned away and crying, curled up and trying to be quiet but shaking the whole damn bed.

“Steve?” he croaks, throat rusty from sleep. “What is it?”

He takes in a long breath, and if there’s such a thing as squaring your shoulders while lying down, that’s what Steve does. “I…” He clears his throat, begins again. “It’s nothing. Just a dream.”

And Tony knows better than most that ‘just a dream’ is definitely not nothing. “You can tell me, you know.”

“It’s not fair to expect you to deal with…” He tries to find a word, evidently can’t. “...this.”

“Not exactly fair to deal with it on your own, either.”

He doesn’t have an answer for that, really, so Tony prods him some more, and eventually: “It’s just that he --” He stops, revises what he was about to say. “They’re all...gone, just gone, and I never got to say or do the things I should have. Any of it. And they died or got old without me, not knowing that I-- how much I--”

Tony sees that he’s on the brink again, so he just wraps his arms around him, lets him feel that he’s there. “They knew,” he says quietly into Steve’s hair. “I’ll bet you anything they knew.”

And they fall asleep again like that.

That kind of night is a strange, quiet part of their lives, because the rest of the time they still argue. It's always the same things: Tony drinks too much, Steve has a stick up his ass. But they manage to avoid huge fights for a little while.

*  
_We meet at a small coffee shop, a place clearly far more Rogers’ taste than Stark’s. It’s obvious that they genuinely like each other - Tony especially radiates adoration, though he tries very hard not to show it. This no engineered relationship for PR purposes._

_When I ask them why they became “intimate”, as it were, Rogers actually blushes - so Stark takes over. “Well, as you may have noticed from our press conferences and all that cellphone footage on Youtube right now, we’ve always had our differences. So I guess we found a way to resolve them."_

*

Steve presses him up against the wall, chest against Tony's back, mouth hot on his neck. "You drive me so completely _insane,_ you know that?" 

Tony can't find the breath to speak, doesn't really want to. He just splays his fingers against the wall, pushes back into Steve's hands, makes some kind of noise that says 'please fuck me _now_ '. And, hey, it works. After that first time Tony has started keeping lube in the lab, for times just like this one and it just doesn't stop getting better.

Their fingers lace together against the wall and Tony knows he's going to have marks all over his shoulders tomorrow, but he doesn't care, it's literally impossible to care. When he comes he can't help yelling Steve's name, and then he feels a now-familiar bite on his shoulder as Steve follows him over the edge.

"I should just get a tattoo there," he says when he has his breath back, and hears Steve huff a laugh into his skin.

"Sorry."

"Oh, god, don't be." He turns in Steve's arms and kisses him, because he can never get tired of kissing Steve. "I like it. A lot."

*

_There have certainly always been rumours that their much-publicised bickering covered for something more, I note._

_This time, Rogers answers me. “Trust me, up until a couple of months ago the last thing on my mind was dating Tony Stark. He annoyed the hell out of me - still does sometimes - but I got to know him better, and turns out there is something underneath all his bluster and sarcasm. And I think--” He looks fondly at Stark. “He’s a good man."_

*

It's their third gala that gets the whole fucking thing to start crumbling down.

This one isn't a Stark Industries benefit; it's an Avengers charity drive, complete with signed merchandise for sale and posing with sick kids (which is the only thing Tony actually likes about these things).

Nat is wearing a flowy green dress that makes Tony assume she has at least three weapons on her, with Clint scrubbing up surprisingly well in a tux. Steve is the darling of the party, of course, so Tony leaves him to it and gets schmoozing. He’s already had a little too much champagne when Richard Mills-Cartwright turns up.

"Tony," he says, grinning with those perfect, predatory teeth, "My, it is an absolute pleasure to see you again."

God, what is it with British people and their ability to make everything sound like 'fuck you'? "Good to see you, Richie." He takes his ex-lover's hand and shakes it. "How's your law firm? Still screwing over the little guys and giving to evil corporations?"

Richie makes an exaggerated hurt face, puts one hand over his heart and the other on Tony's shoulder. "Old friend, you wound me. And after all I did for _your_ evil corporation."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well, we don't do weapons any more."

"Shame. Very profitable, you know. I do so miss your business." Richie leans in to whisper in his ear. "And other things about you, of course. Shame about your Captain."

Gross. "Aren't you taken now? Patricia something triple-barrelled?"

"Keeping tabs on me, darling?" He's really close. Tony takes Richie's hand and peels it off his shoulder, hangs on to it hard enough to bruise the knuckles.

"Just enough to know when to watch my back, sweetheart." Now it's his turn to lean in, take up his personal space. "And if you say anything about Steve again, I _will_ hack into your accounts and air out all your dirty laundry for you."

He steps back again, gives Richie a friendly smile, and turns away to run straight into Steve. 

*

_It has to be said, so I say it. How is Rogers handling Stark’s somewhat messy relationship with the tabloids and gossip?_

_I get a shrug from Captain America, and something that’s not quite a glare from Mr Stark. I know it’s a sore point, and he knows I know. But Rogers fills in the gap willingly. “To be honest, I don’t read them, so it doesn’t bother me.”_

_And he never wonders about what truth there might be in the more bitter stories?_

_Here he looks at Stark, who is definitely not pleased with me but trying not to show it; and there’s a rather sweet moment where I can tell Rogers only just stops himself from taking Stark’s hand. “I think I got all the truth I need right here.”_

*

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That guy you were getting so close to." Oh god, okay, Tony can totally see how that would look, and it would look really shitty. "Who is he?"

"Richie. He's an old friend." He winces at himself. "An old...flame."

"I see." Steve turns stiffly, and there are press here and people are going to fucking _notice_ that Steve is walking away from him with a face like thunder and they do not need a headline about trouble in superhero paradise.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that." He's still walking. "Steve, Stevie--"

He flinches, stops walking. "Don't call me that."

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" Tony glances around. More than a few people are looking, including a couple of those journalists - Pulitzers rather than paps, but that’s bad enough. "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

Wrong thing to say. Steve spins around. "I'm sorry, am I embarrassing you?"

Oh, that's it. He hooks a hand under Steve's elbow and hauls him over to the balcony. He sees Nat watching with one raised eyebrow, ignores her. "Okay, listen to me. Richie and I were literally years ago, and he's a fucking scumbag, and I hate him, okay? I just have to play nice in front of the public."

"Looked like you were playing more than nice."

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Don't you trust me?" He looks away, and something in Tony sinks right down to his feet and through the floor. "God. You don't, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Steve's eyes snap back to his, horrified. "I trust you with my life. Literally. I just--" He breaks off, puts a hand to his head like it hurts. Or maybe Tony's projecting. "I'm sorry. I over-reacted."

"Yeah. You did." Now it's his turn to walk away. "I'm going home."

Steve doesn't argue.

*

_Truthfully, if there was anyone who could make an honest man out of Tony Stark, it probably is Steve Rogers. We’ll just have to wait and see._

*

Tony gets drunk. Really drunk. He gets so drunk that JARVIS actually sounds concerned, and JARVIS has seen him at his very, very worst.

"Sir, may I call Ms Potts for you?"

"No."

"Admirable as your principles can be, on this I must disagree with you. Perhaps Colonel Rhodes?"

"No."

"Captain Rogers--"

"NO. Just." He waves his hand vaguely. "Mute, JARVIS."

But then there's just silence echoing in his head, so he puts the entire Queen discography on shuffle and doesn't hear Steve come in an hour later. The music just cuts out and there he is, tie undone, guilt written all over him. "Hey."

"Whaddya want?"

"To apologise. "

"Mm. Right." He flaps his hand. "Go on then. Tell me how very very sorry you are for believing in all that ‘Tony Stark, slut extraordinaire’ stuff.”

“Hey, I never said--”

“You never had to.” All his fear, all his insecurities start to bubble up, boil over; and he’s spent so long sitting on them it's no wonder. “Hell, probably why you fucked me in the first place, right? Figure out what you were missing?”

“That’s not fair, Tony.”

“I mean, the first time you did leave literally right after so I don’t know what I expected really--”

“You know that isn’t--”

“--and it’s not like the sex isn’t good, guess you got what you were looking for. Or maybe I’m a shitty replacement for that brave soldier boy you still miss, maybe he had dark hair and a smart mouth too and I’m just some stand-in--”

“Goddammit, Tony, stop!” He does, because Steve's voice doesn't shake like that. “Is that what you think of me? After all this time, that I’d just use you like that? Use anyone like that?”

He shrugs, hating himself but unable to stop. “You tell me.”

Steve’s face goes very still. “You’re drunk. We can discuss this in the morning.”

“Yeah, alright, now you’re running scared.”

“I’m not the one who’s scared, Tony.” And he’s gone.

Fuck.


	7. A Mended Vase Is Never The Same As An Unbroken One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a slightly weird chapter to write because I originally took it in a completely different direction which would have ended in about two more chapters for the whole thing...but then I decided things were going too slow for my secret plot ideas, so I deleted like 3 pages and started over, resulting in this chapter. I hope it's turned out okay.
> 
> ANYWAY. The morning after the night before.

It’s Rhodey who drags him out of bed, as he has so many times before, and Tony would feel bad about that if he wasn’t feeling so bad about everything else. He wonders if he could vomit up the words he'd said last night if he tried hard enough.

“Tony,” Rhodey says, pulling the sheets back, “Get up.”

“I’m unconscious. Leave me alone.”

“Tony.”

“JARVIS, tell him.”

“Mr Stark’s vitals appear to be consistent with a normal conscious state, Colonel.”

Traitor. Rhodey pushes at Tony until he sits up, squinting his eyes at the light from the windows and just. Hating everything. “That’s better,” Rhodey says, and then hops easily onto the bed, sitting cross legged next to him like it’s twenty years ago at MIT. “Tell me what happened.”

He scrubs at his eyes, then leaves his hands on his face so he doesn’t have to look at him. “You remember how I get antsy when a relationship is going well and start assuming something will go wrong and then _make_ the thing go wrong just so the tension will end?”

“I remember.”

“Well. That.”

There’s a sigh. “What did you do?”

Tony drops his hands. “He thought I was flirting with someone and then I may have accused him of just using me for my sweet, sweet ass. Not in those words.” He pauses. “Also, the dead boyfriend may or may not have come up again.”

“Okay. So, how are you gonna fix that?”

“Get up, get coffee, continue drinking myself into oblivion?” He gets a glare for that. "Alright, fine, not the correct answer. Get up, coffee, find Steve?”

“Better.”

Tony starts to get up, but Rhodey reaches for his shoulder, pulls him back down. "What now, Colonel Mom?"

"Listen. As your friend, and your ex, I need you to understand something. Right now, Steve is mad at himself for letting you get to him - but he's also wondering if you're right, in that awful way you can be sometimes. So you need to explain _exactly_ how what you really meant was 'I got scared you were going to leave me so I tried to push you away because I have serious abandonment issues.' Okay?"

He lets that process for a moment, then reaches up for Rhodey's hand on his shoulder, just holds it. "I never did apologise for what happened with us. I was a jerk."

"Yeah, you were. But you were also grieving, and scared, and lonely, and I was shipping out to fight a war. Plus, young and stupid explains a lot." He hears the smile in Rhodey's voice. "It's not exactly unheard of for 20-somethings to cheat."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, and leans backwards into the same shoulder he’s been leaning on for two decades. “I’m really, really sorry.”

"It was forever ago, Tony,” Rhodey says, the old familiar weight of his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “And I'm not the one you need to apologise to right now." 

*

When he knocks on Steve’s door, Nat answers. “I’m not sure Steve’s ready to see you yet,” is what she says, but what she means is ‘he definitely doesn’t want to see you and really neither do I’.

But it’s not like Tony’s ever been good at taking no for an answer. “He in there?”

“Yes.” He pushes past her, is glad she lets him because it would be painful if she didn’t. Steve is outside on his balcony, holding a mug of something. He doesn’t turn when Tony steps next to him.

“Steve.”

“Tony,” he replies, neutral, still not looking. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he says honestly. “Like the shittiest of shit boyfriends.”

“Oh, so we’re boyfriends again?”

“Come on, we never stopped being boyfriends. I was just.” And how do you say this, how do you even start to explain Tony’s long and extraordinarily disastrous love life? “I should never have said those things. I don’t even believe them. I was just hurt and drunk.” He takes a breath, can’t look at Steve’s face for a while, because he never can when he's exposing himself like this. “When things are...good, like this, like us, I get terrified that it’s not gonna last, that something’s gonna fuck it up. So I fuck it up myself, just so I can control it. I’m sorry I did that to us. To you.” He pauses, stomach roiling. If he still chewed his nails he’d be down to stubs by now. “Are we okay?” He’s scared to ask, scared to find out.

"I don't know.” His smile is tired and sad and something Tony is ashamed to have put there. "Is this what okay feels like?"

"Steve. How the hell would I know?" He takes Steve's hand, and finally he's looking at him. "What in my life, in our lives, is okay?"

"Well, you know, I'm not sick all the time and I actually have money and a place to live--"

"Alright, grandpa. You know what I mean."

"I do. But we can't just - just keep doing this to each other." This is bad, really bad. He feels like he’s going to puke. "I think I should leave."

"What?" Oh god, oh god, fuck, _why._ "No, no you shouldn't, why would you--"

Steve looks down. "I'm scared that you're right. That I'm using you."

“Come on, have you met you?” He tries to smile. It doesn’t seem to work. “You wouldn’t. You’re Captain America.”

“No, Tony.” Has he always been this sad? Or is Tony only seeing it for the first time now, when it’s too late? “I’m just Steve Rogers.”

"But." Drowning, he reaches for his last straws. "What about the Avengers?"

Steve shrugs. "If Fury needs me, he'll call." _What if I need you,_ Tony doesn’t say. Steve leans in to kiss him softly, tasting like a goodbye. “This isn’t it, Tony. I just need some time away to figure myself out.”

And he’s gone a day later, just like that. That night, Natasha overrides the codes for the lab and sits where Steve used to. She doesn’t say anything, just reads her enormous book and hauls him up to bed at 3am. He finds himself asking her, half-awake, half-dreaming, “Why’d he have to go, Nat?”

“To sort his head out. Just like he said.”

“But he can do that _here._ ”

“Not with you around he can’t.” She sees his face, and clarifies: “He doesn’t think straight around you. He likes you too much.”

He absorbs that slowly. “Promise?”

She rolls her eyes, but: “Promise.”

*

_From: Rhodey  
Clint told me what happened. You okay?_

_To: Rhodey  
It turns out even Captain America can’t be with me. I’m officially the worst person in the world. I’m all the way down there with the Nazis._

_To: Rhodey  
Also, when the hell did you start talking to Clint? _

_From: Rhodey  
I’m serious. How are you doing?_

_From: Rhodey  
And he likes shooting things. We have something in common. _

_To: Rhodey  
Honestly? I feel like shit. _

_From: Rhodey  
Worse than after Pepper broke up with you?_

_To: Rhodey  
Nah, that’s probably impossible. And this isn’t a break up. It’s a hiatus._

_From: Rhodey  
Well, that’s something._

_To: Rhodey  
He said he was worried he was using me. _

_From: Rhodey  
What, Captain America? _

_To: Rhodey  
I know, right?!_

*

Steve video calls the next day. Tony picks up instantly because he has no shame, even when covered in machine oil. Especially covered in machine oil. “Hey!”

“Hey, Tony.” Steve is lying down on a really ugly sofa. “How are you doing?”

“Missing you like hell,” he says without thinking, elbow deep in an engine. “Wait, scratch that. I am being incredibly well-adjusted and doing normal things. You?”

“Well. DC is different. But good different. I was never here before, so it’s all new.” He makes a vague gesture at the apartment. “SHIELD are putting me up.”

“How uncharacteristically generous of them,” Tony says. “So what are you gonna do over there?”

“I’m not sure yet." He shrugs. "I’ll help SHIELD out when they need me. Go running. Maybe take up painting again.”

“All of which you could do here,” he notes, trying and apparently failing to make it sound like an offhand comment because it doesn’t fool Steve for a second. 

“I need this, Tony. Pretty much as soon as I came back I was sent to fight an army of aliens. Then there was you, and that was great, but I’m...missing something.” He clears his throat. “Also. Peggy’s here.”

Tony actually laughs out loud. “Holy shit, Aunt Peggy. Steve, you have no idea what it was like growing up with her as a godmother. How is she?”

“Depends on the day,” he says, looking down, and Tony’s heart hurts a little at that, because Peggy is meant to be indestructible.

“That bad, huh?” Steve nods, lips tight. “Well. At least she’s still around. Might go visit her myself.”

That brings his smile back. Only a little, but there. “I think she’d like that. Come by in a few weeks, when I’m sorted out. We can go together.”

And that, that’s his first concrete evidence that Steve doesn’t think they’re over, and a huge ball of anxiety in his chest dissipates a little. “Sure,” he says, and doesn’t let Steve see how grateful he is.


	8. You're Not Allowed To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They start to deal with being in a long-distance relationship. Then things go tits-up. 
> 
> The first phonecall is just after Steve and Nat have escaped the military base, probably on their way to Sam.
> 
> The second phonecall is from the new SHIELD base, just before Steve heads off to the Triskelion.

After that, they call or text each other every few days. Steve shows him his new motorbike, and Tony immediately starts secretly working on a replacement with all the extras he can think of.

“It can be a welcome home present,” he explains to Pepper when she comes to visit, a stack of documents in her arms that she refuses to forge his signature on. 

“You must really like him,” she comments, leaning on the least cluttered worktop. “I still remember that monstrosity of a rabbit, and that was the best thing you ever got me.”

“Hey, don’t disrespect her memory.” He straightens up, holds his hands out. “Alright, I’m ready. Hit me with the admin.” 

She throws a towel at him. “Anthony Stark, there is absolutely not a chance in hell I am letting you anywhere near these _incredibly_ important documents with…” She looks closer, but quickly gives up. “Unidentifiable substances all over you.” He makes his best wounded face at her. “I know you know that doesn’t work. Go shower. I’ll see you upstairs.”

About ten minutes later, he does a little twirl for her in the doorway. “Happy?”

“Extremely.” He joins her at the kitchen counter and starts signing. “So. How’s Steve?”

“Far away,” he says. “Getting some space. Probably doing that whole moody artist shtick.”

“Moody engineers are just as bad,” Pepper says, but she’s smiling. He misses her suddenly, even though she’s sitting right there. She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Okay, what was that?”

“Hm?”

“You actually thought something serious just then.” God, she knows him way too well.

“I was just.” He hesitates, then says it. “You’re never around any more, you know? Unless it’s business.”

She reaches for him, long fingers lacing with his. “I’m still your friend, Tony. Always. Whatever happened with us, that's no guarantee it'll happen with you and Steve.”

Nope. He changes the subject. “How’s your rocket scientist?”

Her eyes narrow. “He’s fine, thanks for asking.” She lets go of his hand as they sit in silence. Tony listens to the hum of the refrigerator and keeps his head down, knowing she’s doing that thing he hates where she figures out what’s wrong without him saying anything. “Tony. Look at me.” He does, and she breathes out in something like surprise. “You think you’re falling for him, don’t you.”

“I,” he says, trying not to choke, “might be.”

“You should tell him,” she decides immediately. 

“No, I shouldn’t, because then he will definitely stay in Washington and he will never come back to me ever again. Like, ever.”

“This, Tony? This level of maturity is why we’re not together any more,” says Pepper, but she’s smiling gently. “Listen, I know by now that you do whatever you want. But please, take my advice - tell him sooner rather than later. Don’t leave it until he’s already given up.”

*

He thinks about it, he does. But then the next time they speak Steve has a new friend. Sam sounds cool, but that only makes his spark of jealousy worse, and he keeps his mouth shut. On the plus side, Steve is going to VA meetings now. Tony wishes he could be there to see a bunch of army guys react to Captain America turning up. 

He's in the lab - not that he spends much time out of it lately, especially since Nat seems to have disappeared for a while - when the call comes. 

“Sir, I believe I have Captain Rogers on the line for you.”

Tony frowns. “So? Put him through.”

“He is calling from an unrecognised number.” It could be nothing. It could be nothing. “However, his voiceprint is a match.”

“Put him through.” He makes a snap decision. “And record it.”

It's just audio, no video. "Tony?"

"Hey, Steve, how're you doing?" He keeps his voice light and unconcerned.

"I. I'm not sure." He hears a deep, steadying breath. Steve sounds...wrong, somehow. "Is this line secure?"

He looks up, even though he can't see him. “Of course. Also, hey, that’s an incredibly worrying question. What's going on?"

"SHIELD's...compromised. Nat and I, we’re on the run. Fury’s dead."

What. "What."

“HYDRA didn’t die in the 40’s, Tony. They’re still here.” Tony motions for his suit while Steve continues, words tumbling over each other. “And they’re going to kill millions of people if I don’t stop them.”

“I’m on my way,” Tony says, and opens the garage door, repulsors charging up. “Where are you?”

“No!” Steve yells, just like he yells when Tony's about to do something stupid when they're fighting the bad guys. “Tony. You are staying where you are and not breathing a word about this, do you hear me?”

“I’m not gonna just--”

“Tony. I need someone I can trust to take HYDRA down if I can’t.” _Oh god,_ Tony thinks suddenly, _oh god._ “I need you to stay safe, on the outside, and have my back on this if I.” _no don’t say it_ “If I die.” There's silence for a minute, though Tony's sure his heatbeat must be thundering down the line. Steve's voice is soft when he speaks again. “Please. Please do this for me.”

Tony thinks about Pepper, thinks about Rhodey. Thinks about what he’d want Steve to do. He swallows, but his voice is still hoarse when he speaks. “Okay. But you’re not allowed to die, Steve. I will never, ever forgive you.”

“I know.”

Tony breathes. “So. What _are_ you gonna do?”

“Lie low. Make a plan. And no, I’m not telling you where or what.”

“You’re a dick, Rogers,” he says, but he knows what it really sounds like.

“So are you, Stark,” comes the reply, and that sounds like Steve’s saying something different too. He hears Natasha’s voice somewhere in the background. “I gotta go.”

“Wait--” Dial tone. “JARVIS, trace that phone.”

“Immediately, sir.”

Tony holds his arms out, watches pieces of metal fly away from him. But he feels heavier than before he put it on. 

*

There’s complete silence for a few days, days in which he talks to the bots and no one else, texting out periodic reassurances that he’s alive, conscious, and still located in the United States. JARVIS’s tracking fails when the signal from Steve’s burner phone dies after a day. Nat must have done something to it, probably thrown it in a river somewhere to shortcircuit the thing. This doesn’t help Tony’s anxiety, which is eating a hole through his stomach.

Then the news blows up with an attack on a bridge involving Captain America and a masked man with a metal arm, and Steve’s arrested, and then he disappears, and Tony doesn’t drink, no matter how much his hands shake from the need to hold the reassuring shape of a glass. 

Rhodey calls. Pepper calls. Even Happy calls. He has JARVIS answer for him while he gets to hacking SHIELD, because this is one thing he can do right now to help Steve. He’s not even looking for anything in particular; just whatever he can find, whatever looks useful. He’s in the middle of disabling one of several walls around some files to do with Russian operations in the 60s when he gets another call, another new number.

“Steve? Where are you? Are you okay?” He sounds frantic even to himself. He doesn’t care. 

“They’ve got Bucky.” Steve sounds wrecked, half-mad. “He's alive, I don't know how, but they've done something to him, he doesn’t know who he is--"

"Hey, hey, slow down." He tries to make his voice as gentle as possible, which is hard, because he knows from Dad and from the history books that Sergeant James Barnes fell from a train in the Alps in the '40s. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Of course I'm sure!" A breath, deep and long and strained. "Of course I'm sure. But I know it sounds crazy.”

“Start from the beginning,” Tony suggests. And Steve tells him of the absolute chaos of the past few days, tells him about the killer wearing his best friend’s face, tells him how Fury isn’t dead either (Tony fleetingly wishes he’d made a bet on that. Fury is probably immortal). Afterwards, Steve’s breathing is a little steadier. Tony says, very carefully: “What are you gonna do if you see him again?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not gonna kill him.”

“Not sure what it was like on the ground, but from the looks of it, he is definitely trying to kill you.”

“He’s in there,” Steve insists. “I’m going to get him back. He’s not just--”

The line goes dead. “JARVIS, redial!”

“Attempting to reconnect, sir.” A few agonising moments pass while Tony tries not to break apart. “My apologies. The connection appears to have been destroyed.” Another smashed or drowned phone, then. Tony swears for a solid 30 seconds. “Very impressive, sir."

He sweeps all of his projects from his screen, starts again. “JARVIS, scour the footage for every picture of the guy on the bridge. And find every existing image of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th. Hack archives if you have to. Run full facial recognition.”

"Certainly, sir."

A few hours later, Tony leans back in his chair. In front of him are two pictures of a dead man. One was taken a few days ago; the other is from the 1940s. And he doesn't look a day older. He thinks for a moment, then takes the official army photograph and runs an image search in the SHIELD mainframe. The address for a file comes up, buried deep under layers and layers of obfuscation and ostensibly innocuous databases. CODENAME: WINTER SOLDIER, it says.

He finds it, hacks it open, starts reading.

That's when he reaches for a drink. But his hands don’t stop shaking.


	9. I Told Myself I'm Smarter Than This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how late this is! I have been so so busy lately, literally not getting in til about 11 most days. I'll try to stick to the schedule in future - and I'm gonna be off work soon for Xmas so hopefully I'll be able to work on this more soon.
> 
> SO, story-wise: Tony catches up to Steve in DC.

Turns out Steve being in a helicarrier that is simultaneously exploding and falling into a river is maybe the only thing in the world that can make Tony literally forget to drink. He doesn't sleep or eat either, but that's more normal.

He sees the crash and immediately flies to DC because to hell with promises, but when he gets there Steve's already in the hospital, pulled out of the river. He steps out of the suit, leaving JARVIS on guard outside Steve's room, and takes a breath. Then he opens the door. It hurts to look at him, skin too pale on the hospital sheets.

On the plus side, he finally meets Sam. 

"Huh. Tony goddamn Stark," he says, not moving from his chair. Tony's heard various versions of "Tony -insert curse word- Stark", but the way Sam says it is new, like thank you and fuck you all at once. 

"The one and only," he replies, and drops into the chair on the other side of Steve because he doesn't need a damn invitation. "Wanna fill me in?"

Sam's mouth does something weird. "Think I'll let him do that, man."

"Hm." He doesn't have the energy to argue, which is another thing that's scary and new. He slides his hand over the sheets and wraps his fingers around Steve's, bites down his panic at how limp they are. He listens to the heart monitor. 

They wait. He falls asleep somehow.

Steve is in the cave, bleeding out. "This was always the plan, Stark," he says. "It's okay. I want this."

"No," Tony begs, "Please don't."

"On your left," he says, which makes no sense, and Tony opens his eyes and Sam is looking at Steve with the kind of relief usually reserved for survivors of natural disasters. He sees the moment Steve registers Tony's hand in his, because he stiffens up, turns his head carefully as if he thinks Tony's going to run away. And then there’s a weird moment where Steve’s eyes meet his with wild hope, but then he blinks and smiles and looks exhausted instead. “Hey, Tony.”

He feels a surge of anger at that, just saying hey like nothing happened. “I told you not to get killed, you fucking--” His throat closes up. “Don’t _do_ that,” he chokes out. “How _dare_ you do that--”

“Tony.” That’s Sam. “Breathe. He’s alive, okay?”

“Yeah, no thanks to himself.” He looks at Steve again, and the bastard is still smiling. “Steve, this isn’t anywhere near fine or okay--”

“Bucky saved my life,” he interrupts. His eyes are intense through the bruising. “I didn’t get out of the Potomac by myself. I passed out and woke up on the bank. He got me out. He _remembered_ me.”

Tony tightens his jaw and doesn’t think about his parents. “So where is he now?”

“In the wind,” Sam says, and Steve looks at him with that determined look he gets when he has a plan.

“I’ve gotta find him,” he says, which wins the award for most unsurprising sentence of the decade. 

“You’re not doing it alone,” Sam decides firmly. “There is literally zero chance I’m letting you go _anywhere_ without me from now on.” He turns to Tony. “You in, Iron Man?”

There’s only one answer to that, with Steve looking that way, Sam asking that way, Tony knowing what it means to have a second chance. “Whatever you need,” he says to both of them. “I’m with you.”

*

Problem is, there’s only so much JARVIS’s facial recognition can do when they’re dealing with a legendary masked assassin with tactics and back-up plans where memories should be. It doesn’t help that Nat has vanished into Europe along with Fury, taking her very helpful (albeit fucked-up) spy logic with her.

So, instead, they regroup back at the tower. Steve stays on his own floor for the first few days of planning and healing, and Sam stays in the spare room. When they’re not tracing the sudden outbreak of seemingly innocuous warehouses and office buildings that keep blowing up, Tony sits in his lab with Sam's broken wings and doesn’t look at the bottle in the corner. He’s not sure why he’s not drinking. It’s probably just that he’s been sober for a week and he kinda wants to know how long he can keep it up for. 

Also, for the first time, a part of him is worried that he won’t stop if he starts again.

Then the night before they begin their search in earnest, Steve turns up in Tony’s bed. Not in a sexy way, just in a tank top and shorts, book in his hands. He looks at Tony carefully, and it hits him that Steve’s checking for signs of alcohol. He opens his arms out, walks in a perfectly straight line to the bed. “Look ma, no hands!”

He smiles slowly, though his eyes are still so tired. “Huh.”

“Sober as a nun for about two weeks,” Tony says, stripping to his underwear and climbing under the covers. He hesitates for a millisecond that he's still sure is noticeable, then rests his head on Steve’s chest. “You proud?”

A strong hand settles on his shoulder, smooths down his back. “Well done,” he says, absolutely deadpan, though he snickers when Tony grumbles at him.

There’s a pause. “So,” Tony says, “Am I forgiven? You coming back yet?”

“For now. When we find Bucky," and Tony does notice that, the 'when', "There’s nowhere else safe enough for him to go. So he’ll have to be here, and I’ll be here with him until he's...” He flounders for a word. "Recovered."

It’s not the answer Tony wants. He props himself up so Steve has to look at him. “So you’re not done figuring stuff out?”

“I didn’t get a chance,” he protests. “I’d only just settled in DC when everything with SHIELD collapsed.”

“Don’t go.” Tony wants to call it back as soon as he says it, but it’s too late, so he carries on. “Don’t leave me again. I’m better with you around.” He puts his hands on Steve’s face, willing him to see how serious he is. “You make me want to _be_ better.”

Steve kisses him then, sweet and chaste. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Tony says, then kisses Steve again. “Okay,” he repeats, firmer, and slides down a bit so he can hear Steve’s heartbeat again, strong and steady, just like the man it belongs to. He falls asleep like that, and maybe that was what brought the nightmares, that steady knocking. 

They’re banging at the door and he can’t finish it, he doesn’t have the right part, he just needs that one thing and then they’ll be happy and he’ll be free and the pain will finally, finally stop. The banging turns into shooting, and he looks down and it’s him, he’s shooting, his hands are covered in blood and he’s made of death and he jerks upright, panting in the dark room, Steve saying his name urgently.

He can’t touch his face yet, his hands still feeling slippery. “JARVIS, lights,” he says, and it’s not blood, it’s just sweat, and he’s in bed and it’s okay. “Fuck,” he says, and hates how shaky it sounds.

“Hey,” he hears, and then strong arms are around him. _Steve._ “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t go,” Tony says, raw and desperate. “Don’t go.”

Steve shushes him, kisses him. “I’ll stay,” he says, and Tony believes him. 

*

They catch up to him while they're going through a pile of smoking rubble in Oregon. Tony switches the suit to stealth mode and watches a figure in black stalk away through the trees - limping, sure, but still with that terrifying purpose. He's gone over the footage a million times, has memorised that walk by now. It's him.

"I got eyes on the prize, Cap," he says, and almost hears Steve's attention snap right to him as he recites the co-ordinates. The Soldier shows no sign of actually knowing he's being watched, but his head moves warily from side to side, like he's expecting it.

"Iron Man, wait for me," Steve replies. "Falcon, let’s go."

"Roger that." 

Tony gives them his co-ordinates and does not make a joke. Even he knows this is the kind of tense that would not be improved by his stellar wit. He sees the moment that the Winter Soldier - Barnes, he reminds himself, Bucky Barnes - realises he’s being followed. 

What happens next is a very impressive blur that ends with Steve and Falcon both pinning Barnes to the ground, Steve saying something earnestly into his ear until he suddenly goes limp. 

He’s pretty sure Barnes is crying. He’s _absolutely_ sure that Steve is crying. He looks away.

*

Rhodey flies in to pick them up, but Barnes eyes the helicopter with suspicion. 

“Where are we going,” he says, like he can’t remember how questions are supposed to sound.

“Home,” Steve promises. “Back to New York.”

There’s a pause. His eyes flicker. “Brooklyn.”

Steve looks like he’s about to cry. “Yeah, Buck. We lived in Brooklyn.”

He turns haunted eyes towards the helicopter, squares his shoulders like he's heading to the hangman, and jumps lightly in. Sam looks at Tony, but if there’s anything meaningful in that look it’s indecipherable to him, and heads up next to sit next to Rhodey.

Steve sits next to Barnes and promptly passes out completely, leaning on Bucky's shoulder like it's made of wool instead of metal. And Tony’s not jealous, he's not, because if he was jealous of Steve finding his best friend again after seventy years that would make him a terrible person. 

He blinks, and he's being watched. "Stark," Barnes says, but there's no inflection in it. Tony doesn't know if it's an acknowledgement or a rebuke or a question.

He settles on "Yeah?" and is pretty proud of how relaxed he sounds.

The smallest frown appears. "You're not Howard."

Fuck. "No. He died." _You killed him,_ he doesn't say, because he probably doesn't remember that and it's another thing that would make Tony a terrible person. "I'm Tony."

Those eyes glance down Tony's armour and back up again. "Are you like me." He flexes his metal arm. 

Tony shakes his head. "Nah. Mine comes off, see?" He motions with his hand, rolling the gauntlet back. Something occurs to him. "I can have a look at yours, though. If you want."

He clenches his jaw. "It needs _repairs,_ " he says, but with such a look of painful resignation and disguised fear - the first strong emotions Tony's seen from him - that it's obvious 'repairs' means a ton of other stuff other than someone fixing his arm.

So, "When you're ready," Tony says. They sit in silence the rest of the way home. Steve doesn't wake up.


	10. Like We Used To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet chapter. Mostly.

They settle Bucky into the floor Tony had built for Bruce;he figures that if it's certified Hulk-proof (and he has tested it _extensively_ ), even a super soldier with a metal arm can't do too much damage. Plus, the meditation room might be useful.

Barnes doesn't say much. He stalks around each room, looking like a cornered wildcat. He's thinner than he was in the news footage: cheeks hollow, arms noticeably uneven.

He eyes the corners of the ceiling. "There are cameras here," he says, even though there's nothing to see, and looks at Tony for confirmation.

"Yeah," Tony admits. "But I'll only look at them if something's going wrong."

He nods. "Am I," he searches for a word. There seem to be a lot of words he's not used to saying. "Arrested?"

"No," Steve cuts in, trying not to sound horrified. "No, this is just somewhere you can lie low for a while. And be safe."

"But I can't leave."

Steve looks at Tony, who shrugs. "You can if you want. I'm not a jailer."

"Steve." It's the first time Bucky has used that name. It sounds rusty in his mouth. "HYDRA are still out there. I need to."

"Destroy 'em?" Tony supplies helpfully. "Well, believe me, I understand that urge. But first you gotta eat, rest up. Get some of that good old supersoldier muscle back on you. And then we can help you get rid of them." Barnes' eyes slide to one side, his mouth twisting unhappily. "And...there's something else?"

He doesn't say anything. "Bucky?" Steve prompts gently.

"Is this real?" Desperation suddenly colours his voice, breaking it. "Are you real?" His voice rises. "Am I dead?"

"Bucky, no!" Steve doesn't even try not to sound horrified this time. He wraps his arms around Bucky, who buries his face in Steve's shoulder. He's shaking. "Hey, we're real, and you're alive."

"I used to see you," Bucky says, muffled. "You used to say you were coming for me. But you never did."

"I came for you," Steve says. It sounds like his heart is breaking. "I came for you."

Tony turns away and goes to stand by the window, so he can't hear what else they say. It's not for him. He counts to 342 before Steve calls his name. Barnes is now on the floor, looking wrecked. Steve isn't much better.

"So," Tony says, "Do I have a new housemate?"

Bucky nods, but doesn't speak. "I'm gonna stay with him for a while," Steve says, like Tony hadn't guessed. "I'll come upstairs later."

Tony tries to smile. "Sure thing, sweetheart." He kisses Steve quickly, and pretends he doesn't notice Bucky watching him as he leaves.

*

_To: Sam Wilson  
Hey, Barnes is gonna need some hardcore therapy. You're into all that shrink stuff. Know anyone?_

_From: Sam Wilson  
I'm assuming this is Tony, right? Not even gonna ask how you got my number. _

_From: Sam Wilson  
But yeah, I know somebody. Bea Gilfillian. She specialises in amnesia, PTSD, and combat trauma._

_To: Sam Wilson  
Sounds like Barnes' kind of lady. Hook us up. Pepper will email you a non-disclosure contract for her._

_From: Sam Wilson  
You know therapists can't talk about their patients, right?_

_To: Sam Wilson  
Hey, it's standard procedure for anyone who comes up to the private floors. _

_From: Sam Wilson  
I didn't get one._

_To: Sam Wilson  
You're special._

_From: Sam Wilson  
Ugh, whatever, Tony. Send everything through, I'll sort it with her. How's Steve doing?_

_To: Sam Wilson  
Not great. He's still with Bucky downstairs. Those are two messed-up nonagenarians._

_From: Sam Wilson  
You're telling me._

_To: Sam Wilson  
Also you never told me how the new wings are doing. I am shocked and appalled._

_From: Sam Wilson  
They're like a dream._

_To: Sam Wilson  
That's what I like to hear. I'll sleep comfortably tonight. _

*

Tony is lying in bed with his tablet when Steve comes up. He sits up when Steve just stays standing in the doorway.

"Steve?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah." 

Oh. That does not sound good. "Come to bed."

"Okay," he says, but he stays still.

"Don't make me get Sam to bully you into sleeping," Tony warns, and at that Steve laughs a little and finally comes in to sit on the bed, and yeah he's been crying. "Hey. Hey, come here, come on," and he gets Steve to lie down, head on his chest. "Talk to me?"

He clears his throat again. "He knows my name is Steve, and that we were close. But he doesn't remember why, or what we went through together." He swallows. “He remembers falling, though.”

“Pretty hard to forget, I guess.”

“Well, they took away damn near everything else.” There’s a silence. “I don’t like leaving him alone.”

“What a surprise,” Tony says, but he makes his voice gentle. “Remember all those times you’ve made me go to sleep and do stupid shit that means I'm taking care of myself?”

“Like you even listen half the time.”

“Well, whatever, it applies to you too. You won’t do Barnes any good if you start moping around in sackcloth and ashes.”

There’s a pause. “His name is Bucky.”

Tony frowns into the dark. “What did I say?”

“Barnes.”

“Well, cut me some slack here, I’ve only known him a day.”

There’s a tense moment where Tony starts to worry they’re already going to have an argument. Then: “I guess. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, muffin.”

He huffs a laugh into Tony’s side. “Did I get downgraded for moving to DC?”

“Oh, now I wouldn’t do that, sweetcheeks,” he says, and yeah, this feels familiar. Better. “Come up here. I’ll show you downgraded.”

“Degraded, more like,” he says, but he clambers up to kiss Tony anyway. He licks into Steve’s mouth, opens his legs to let him settle between them. Steve moans softly, moving to kiss Tony’s throat, his shoulders.

He runs his fingernails along Steve’s sides and realises how much he’s missed him. So, “I missed you,” he says, and then arches his back with a gasp when Steve bites him right where his neck meets his shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” Steve murmurs into his skin, and grinds against him. “Want to see how much?”

“Fuck, yes,” Tony says, and Steve is suddenly topless, all that broad expanse of skin just _there_ , but he takes Tony’s wrists in one big hand and pins them down so he can’t touch, which, hey, how did he not know he wanted Steve to do that? 

Steve moves slowly against him, teasing, and how did Tony forget how fucking _insane_ Steve could make him? He pushes upwards into the rough denim, needing more, and then Steve’s other hand firmly presses his hips back down. “Behave, Tony,” he says, and his voice is dark and needy in that familiar way and Tony thinks, hey, maybe this is what he needs right now, some control. 

So he says “Make me,” and watches Steve grin wickedly and draw his belt free to tie Tony’s wrists above his head.

He gets rid of Tony’s underwear and abruptly sucks him into his mouth, and Tony swears loudly until Steve claps a hand over his mouth. The other hand is clamped down on his hip, keeping him still. Each time he’s close to the edge Steve pulls off and kisses his mouth instead, until he’s panting with need, desperate.

Then Steve reaches over to the bedside table, and Tony somehow gets even harder, gasps out words like _fuck_ and _yes_ and _please_. At that last word Steve kisses him hard, and murmurs, “Since you asked so nicely,” before sliding a finger into him.

Tony kind of loses all capacity for rational thought for a little while, his world narrowing down to Steve, his hands, and finally his mouth, Jesus Christ. And then Steve’s _in_ him and everything snaps back into focus as he comes, hard. Steve kisses him roughly, riding him through it, and then takes his time for himself. Tony feels everything so much more, every part of him over-sensitive, and is shuddering in waves by the time Steve cries out and topples over the edge.

They breathe in the darkness together, arms and legs tangled up. “Feel any better?” Tony asks eventually.

Steve smiles into his shoulder.


	11. Gotta Draw A Line Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late! Also this story is getting longer than I thought XD I originally planned only 10 chapters...we're looking at around 14 now! 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. It's not very festive.

Bea arrives at the tower with Sam the next day, locs piled on top of her head. She shakes Steve's and then Tony's hand firmly, with a smile that lights up her warm brown eyes. 

"Thanks for coming," Steve starts, smiling back.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet Steve Rogers," she says, and that's it, Steve's won over. No one ever says they're happy to meet him; they want to meet _Captain America_. And now Steve’s happy, Tony’s happy. He gives her the rundown of emergency procedures - the codeword to alert JARVIS to get the team, where the cameras are, all that stuff - as they head upstairs in the elevator. 

Bucky is in the corner, looking out of the wall of windows. His metal hand is clenching and unclenching by his side.

“Buck?” He turns his head at Steve's voice. Slightly. “Sam's here. And there’s someone else who wants to talk to you.” He looks straight at them then, something like terror on his face. Bea takes over. 

“Hello.” Bucky doesn’t say anything. “What’s your name?”

He looks to the side again. “I. Don’t have one.”

Steve opens his mouth, but Bea just looks at him, and he closes his mouth again. Tony has to learn how she does that. “Well. We can talk about that.” And she steps into the room, fearless. “Sam's going to stay in the next room in case we need him, but he won't be listening. Do you want anyone else to stay with you?” A shake of the head. She turns back, smiling slightly. “You heard the man.”

Tony takes Steve’s hand and tugs until he gets the message. 

*

Bea tells them to leave Bucky alone for a little while after their first session. “He has an incredible amount of trauma to work through,” she says. “He’s going to need some time alone to figure it out.” She looks at Sam. “You were right. I’ll be here three times a week.”

After she’s gone, Sam takes Steve for a run, and Tony is holed up in the lab again when JARVIS announces: “Sir, I would strongly recommend visiting Sergeant Barnes as soon as possible.”

He’s instantly alert. “Yeah, what is it?”

“He is being rather...destructive, sir.”

Tony swears and drops everything, running to the elevator and jabbing at the buttons. They didn’t know if Bucky is a self-harm risk yet, shit, why didn't he ask? The apartment is a mess, splintered wood everywhere, cracks in the granite counters, and no sign of Bucky.

“Barnes?” Tony tries, stepping further into the room. He can’t have left; his access to the elevator is restricted and the windows are unbroken. His train of thought is abruptly cut off by a metal arm seizing him by the neck, lifting him off his feet. The metal plating nicks his throat. And, _shit_ , the bracelets are still in the lab--

“Who are you?”

He wheezes, manages a whisper of air. “Tony, it’s Tony--”

“You’re _Stark_.” He’s thrown to the floor, where he desperately gasps for breath before looking up at Barnes. His eyes are wild, flesh hand bloodied. The plates on his metal arm realign themselves. “You were my mission. I killed you.”

 _Fuck._ He manages to smile like he isn’t about to die. JARVIS will have called for backup, but they won’t be here in time to stop a snapped neck. “Wrong Stark. That was Howard. I’m Tony.”

Bucky stares, then blinks, then starts to shake. He falls to his knees and grabs at his head. “What-- what year is it?”

Okay. He knows this. “It’s 2014. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you’re in Stark Tower, Manhattan. You’re safe. We’re not HYDRA and neither are you. Not any more.” 

“I was. Cold. I.” He’s still shaking, his breath sounding like a steam engine. “Where’s. Steve?”

Tony doesn’t reach out, though maybe he should. “He’s out, but I bet he’s coming back right now. You just gotta-- gotta breathe, okay? You’re hyperventilating. Want to breathe with me?” He demonstrates, though with a little difficulty through the bruises he can feel forming on his throat. “Come on, you can do it.”

They’re still sitting there, just breathing quietly in the middle of a pile of wreckage, when Steve bursts through the door. He looks from Tony to Bucky, and then at the room. “What happened?” His eyes widen suddenly. “Tony, your neck!”

When Bucky just looks miserable instead of replying, Tony decides to have pity. “Just got a bit confused for a while. No biggie.”

“But--”

“Steve.” Even he’s surprised that he sounds serious. “Leave it. We’re fine. Right, Bucky?” Bucky gets up and heads into his bedroom, shuts the door quietly. “I guess that’s a yes.” He looks at Steve, who comes to crouch next to him, gently touching his throat. “I said I’m fine.”

“You need some ice on it, Tony, you’re black and blue.”

“Matches your eyes.” He gets up, shaking Steve off. “Seriously, it’s okay. He didn’t know where he was, what year it was, who I was. It’s not his fault.”

“I know that.” Steve’s eyes are shadowed. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

He can’t resist it. “Yeah, well. I’m not the one he shot.” He heads for the elevator. “You coming?” Steve hesitates, glancing at Bucky’s closed door. Tony tries not to feel the pang of jealousy that echoes through him. “Well, that was a stupid question.”

“I just--”

He flaps his hand at him. “Nah, go to him. I’ll be around when you’re ready.”

For the first time in a while, he goes to the gym. Sam’s already there, lifting weights. “The running not enough for you?”

“Not if I want to keep up with a couple of assassins, a super soldier, and a robot.” He looks over at Tony, one eyebrow raised. “To clarify, you’re the robot.”

“At least my brain is proportional to my body.”

“Oh, a bird joke? Original.” Sam squints at him, then sets the dumbbell down. “Hey, what happened to your neck?”

Tony shrugs and heads over to the treadmill. “Slight incident with an amnesiac veteran. No major damage.”

Sam just looks at him. “You sure, man?”

“I’m sure,” Tony says, and starts running.

*

He doesn’t visit Bucky again for a little while, just while his neck heals. Steve doesn’t mention it, other than to hand him an ice-pack when he comes back to Tony’s room that first night. He keeps looking like he wants to say something, though, and eventually Tony just pulls him to bed and lets him say it there.

Steve’s already gone when Tony gets up the next morning, and suddenly he remembers how long it's been since he's been outside and calls Rhodey to nag him into going for coffee.

“So,” he says, fixing him with a look that isn’t quite a glare. “Where’ve you been?”

He shrugs, looks down at his latte. “Oh, you know. Tracking down a certain one-armed assassin and getting him a therapist. Got a few new guests, a few new bruises. No biggie.”

There’s a pause. “You’ve got the Winter Soldier staying with you.”

“Yup.”

“Does Pepper know?”

“Nope.”

He sighs, obviously but not loudly. “So all of that stonewalling was for Steve.”

“And Bucky,” Tony interjects. “I have never seen anyone who needed to come in from the cold as much as he did. Does.”

“Even with the…” Rhodey gestures at his neck, and he suddenly wishes he’d worn a scarf, even if it isn’t quite cold enough yet.

“No big deal. Probably should have twigged it wasn’t a good idea to go in there when he broke 95% of the furniture. Easy fix.”

Rhodey’s dark eyes hold his for a long moment. “It’s okay to be scared around him. He’s killed a lot of people.”

“Yeah, well. So have I.”

“Tony.”

“Rhodey,” he replies, mock-seriously, though he knows he’s being unfair. But he can’t handle this right now.

“Be careful, okay?”

“Yes, Colonel Mom,” Tony says, but he knows Rhodey hears him saying _thank you for the concern_ and _I will try._

“Good.” He nods firmly like something had been decided. “How’s my boy Wilson?”

*

Over the next couple of weeks, Bucky seems to improve in fits and starts. Bea sends them an update on his progress every week - nothing detailed, because unlike the rest of them she is actually a professional, but just updates on what he might need, what to look out for. Steve visits Bucky every day. One afternoon, he comes back with his own set of bruises, one on his cheekbone, another on his wrist. 

“No,” Tony says when he sees them, standing up from where he’s been leaning on the counter. He points with his pen. “Absolutely not.”

He gets a mild look in return. “What?”

“You are _not_ letting yourself be thrown around and hurt by Bucky, especially when I know how bad it has to be to even leave a mark on you. I don’t care how fucked up he is, that is not a thing that’s happening under my roof.” 

There’s that stubborn look that only means stupid things. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

Tony slams his coffee cup down just hard enough that some of it spills over because for god’s sake Steve’s so selfless, he’s so fucking noble, he’s so going to get himself killed, jesus fucking Christ-- “Where is your fucking line?!”

“Where,” Steve grits out, “Is yours?” And that’s a completely different question, so they stare at each other for a minute, maybe two. 

Tony breaks first and downs the rest of his coffee. “Fine. But I’m turning the cameras on when you’re in there.” Steve takes a breath. “Don’t you fucking dare argue with that, Rogers. I’m not going in there one day to your corpse on the floor. Should’ve kept them on from the start.”

“He’s not a _prisoner,_ Tony--”

“But he _is_ dangerous,” he retorts, grabbing his jacket. “And this is my fucking tower and my goddamn AI, so if I need JARVIS to watch you to make sure you don’t get killed by your best pal, that’s what I’m gonna do.” He pushes past Steve. “I’m going out.”

There’s an icy silence behind him as he leaves. He tells himself he doesn’t care.


	12. Everyone’s Got A Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sad and I made myself sad. The next one - which is the last proper one before the epilogue - is nice though! After some weepy comments I decided the first ending wasn't good enough so I rewrote it because I am a good person deep down.

He promises Steve he won’t watch when he’s with Bucky, so he doesn’t. They don’t discuss it any more after that, but it feels like they’re walking on a precipice. He hates it, but he’s 40 days sober and counting, so he gets some gum and just deals with it. Pepper assures him she’s proud.

Tony is working on maybe his twentieth upgrade for Sam’s wings - “Nah, man, seriously, these are great, these are actually amazing, you don’t have to,” had been Sam’s exact words, but Tony _knew_ he could do better - when JARVIS interrupts.

“Sir?”

“Yep?”

“I fear I must bring your attention to Sergeant Barnes’ quarters once again.”

His stomach turns to ice. “Fuck, what’s happening, is Steve okay? Do I need to get up there?”

“I believe that turning on the monitor would suffice, Sir.”

Well, that’s not imminent death or maiming, but it’s not good either. Tony reaches out for the feed, brings it up. Then he stares, and the ice in his stomach spreads through the rest of his body, rooting him there.

Bucky is kissing Steve desperately, like he needs it to live. And Steve is...not stopping him. Not encouraging him either, to be absolutely fair, but the way his hands are holding on to the counter behind him looks like it’s a struggle not to. 

Finally Bucky pulls away, presses his forehead to Steve’s, says something. “Turn it off, JARVIS.” The screen goes black. He feels sick. Dummy wheels over and whirrs sympathetically. “Thanks,” he says automatically.

He curses himself for being a million shades of idiot. Of course it had been Bucky all along, of fucking _course_ it had. And he didn’t see it because he was so infatuated. How, _how_ had he missed this?

“Sir?”

“Yeah, JARVIS?”

“I am sorry.”

God, even his AI is pitying him. “Thanks.” 

“Would you like me to call Ms Potts?”

“Fuck no, JARVIS.” He looks down at the wiring in his hands, can't remember what he was doing. He sets it down, gets a minor electric shock before he heads out because he has suddenly decided that's where he needs to be, out and away and somewhere that's not here.

He takes his least flashy car and drives out to the sea. The sun is setting and he opens both windows, tries to breathe. The sarcastic part of his mind tells him that at least Bruce would probably approve of him listening to the waves.

His phone rings; it's Steve. He ignores it until it stops. Then there's a text. He ignores that as well, and on second thought, turns his phone off.

*

_From: Steve  
Hey Tony, let me know when you get back. Sam says he's cooking tonight :) S X_

_From: Steve  
Well, you missed dinner...everything okay? S X_

_From: Steve  
Tony, where are you? Jarvis won't tell me, but I'm assuming I'd know if you were kidnapped. S X_

_From: Steve  
Did something happen? S X_

_From: Steve  
Jarvis says you definitely weren't kidnapped. What the hell? S X_

_From: Steve  
Tony, I'm not kidding. Call me, please. S X_

_From: Steve  
Pepper and Rhodey can't get hold of you either. What is going on? S X_

_From: Steve  
Of course your phone is untraceable. Where are you?!_

_From: Steve  
tony i swear to god if you don't get back to me i will find you_

*

"Where've you been?" Oh, hey, that's highly unexpected and he is totally not sober enough for this, nope, not at all, not in the slightest.

"Out," he says, very eloquently, excellent diction. He goes to his personal bar, but suddenly there's a very muscular torso in the way. "Hey."

"You don't need any more of that, Tony." That's definitely an angry face. Maybe the angriest face. "What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been gone for hours and you smell like a brewery."

"It's none of your goddamn business," he says, trying to move around Steve and somehow not managing to.

"It _is_ my business when I've stayed up all night, wondering if you've fallen into a ditch or been abducted or hell, just finally got yourself killed in a freak lab accident--"

"Fuck off, Steve, I'm a grown man, not a goddamn child--"

"Then act like it!" That's it. Tony turns around, maybe a little too fast, but that's okay because the wall's right there. "Hey! We're not done here." 

“Yeah, we are. We’re done,” he says, and focuses on getting to bed.

He hears a muttered "For God's sake," and then there's a hand, two hands, and yeah he's being carried and then dumped onto his bed. "We are gonna talk in the morning," Steve promises, and slams the door.

He promptly passes out, waking up what feels like seconds later to sunlight pouring through the curtains and drilling directly into his skull. He swears softly and draws the pillow over his head. Then he remembers yesterday and tension floods him, because there’s someone else in the room. 

He looks over, and there's Steve, drawing by the window. "Well. Look who's up."

Tony picks a neutral question. "What time is it?"

"Nearly 11."

"Shouldn't you be with Bucky?" He can't stop a little bit of bitterness bleeding through.

"Bea's with him for an extra session." Steve sets his sketchbook aside. "I told you we'd talk.” Tony puts the pillow down and carefully stares at the ceiling. No. He can’t do this. 

“I don’t want to talk, Steve.”

"Too bad." The bed dips as Steve climbs onto it, leans over to him. He doesn't look angry any more; just that concerned frown he has. "You've been sober for weeks. Something happened yesterday and you're gonna tell me what it is."

Fuck it. Fine. "Maybe you should tell me." He sits up, meeting Steve's eyes. "What did happen yesterday?"

It takes a second before he suddenly slumps, horror and sadness and guilt written all over him. "You saw."

"Yeah. I saw,” Tony bites out, and god, the fucking _outrage_ is practically choking him.

An answering anger flares up suddenly in Steve’s face. "You promised me you wouldn't watch!"

"I wasn't _watching,_ JARVIS--"

“Don’t you dare blame this on your AI!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did he encourage you to make out with your one true love when your actual, current boyfriend was waiting for you? And you had the goddamn audacity to accuse _me_ of wandering eyes when _you_ are the one who’s been pining after someone else this whole time!”

“I have _not_ been pining for him!”

“But you love him, right?” As soon as the words are out, he realises he doesn’t need to know the answer. “Fuck it, don’t say anything, it’s obvious. It’s always been him and I really am just the substitute.” He swings his legs out of bed and stands up, ignoring the pounding in his head. There’s movement behind him and Steve grabs his arm, and fuck no.

“Tony, wait--”

“Let go of me.”

“No.” He turns in disbelief. “I need you to hear me out. I’m not letting go until you do.”

Tony tugs sharply, but Steve doesn’t budge, because of course he doesn’t. “Fuck you, Steve--”

“Yeah, I loved him,” Steve interrupts. “And maybe I still do, I gotta think about it. But it’s _you_ I’m with. And if you saw Bucky kiss me, you know I didn’t kiss him back. Right?”

“Yeah.” Tony nods, jaw clenched and aching. His skin is beginning to crawl. “Let go now, Steve.” He does, slowly, and Tony immediately crosses his arms over his pounding heart. “So. You need to think about whether you want to be with Bucky or me.”

“Can you give me time to do that, Tony?”

“No.” He steps back, and then again when Steve gets up. “No, I’m gonna make this choice for you.” He turns to the door but Steve steps around him and blocks it, and his heartrate rockets again.

“Please, Tony, don’t--”

“Get out of the goddamn way!” He feels his breath coming quicker. “I’m not going to be second best for anyone, especially not you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He snaps. “It means I spent my whole goddamn life in your shadow and then my Dad’s, and I’ll burn Stark Industries and myself to the ground before I let you choose me out of pity or obligation or some other noble bullshit. Now move.”

“Tony--” Steve reaches for him and he flinches away without thinking. He hears his own breath hitch, tries to control it. “What--”

“Just don’t touch me, okay, just let me go, Steve, please,” and he’s not babbling, he’s not panting for air, he’s keeping it together until he can just get _out_.

“Hey. Hey, breathe with me, okay? Tony, you hear me? Breathe in for me.” His voice is coming from far away. He closes his eyes and draws in maybe half a breath through his vice of a throat. “Oh, god, okay, just count with me. In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three…” 

He gets his breath back on the floor, Steve’s arms around him, one hand stroking his hair. “Shit,” he says, but doesn’t attempt to move. They sit in silence for a while.

“Did I do that to you?” Steve asks quietly.

Tony sighs. “Feeling trapped in a room isn’t great for panic attacks, so.”

“God, I’m sorry. For everything.” And just like that, what anger he had left sort of drains out of Tony’s body, and he turns into Steve’s chest, breathes his scent in.

“It’s okay.” He reaches for the back of Steve’s head, draws him down into a kiss. It’s soft, and sad, and then Tony stands up and opens the door. “I still mean it, though,” he says, not looking at Steve, because he just. Can’t. “If you’re gonna choose, we both know it’s him. You literally crashed a plane into the ocean and he’s fighting seventy years of brainwashing for you. You’re lucky to get a chance at that once in a lifetime, let alone twice.”

“Tony.” He still doesn’t look. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it, princess,” he says automatically, and leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas. *cackling laughter dissolving into sobs*


	13. I Need You Back Here In My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A compromise is found.

Steve takes the few things he has in Tony’s apartment and moves out with Bucky, and Tony pretends everything is fine. It helps when Nat and Clint come back from wherever the fuck they’ve been; she gives him one of her inscrutable looks that may or may not be sympathy, but thankfully says nothing.

At first, Steve tries to ease them into a friendship - “Wanna see a movie?” he says, looking hopeful; or “I’m going to try Sam’s casserole recipe, you in?” 

But he can’t do it, not in the slightest. And eventually - possibly after an intervention from Nat or Rhodey or both; neither of them say anything but Tony _knows_ they’d be one hell of a tag team - Steve stops trying. It probably helps that Bucky is learning more and more about how to be a person, so they can spend more time together without anything getting broken. 

“I’m sorry,” says Pepper; and “You’ll get through this,” says Rhodey. He catches himself wishing he still did cocaine, just to make time pass quicker. 

Bucky comes to see him before they leave. It’s not like they haven’t met in the last month - the metal arm needed serious tweaking and then some upgrades just for fun, and Tony almost forgets who it’s attached to when he’s working on it - but this is the first time Bucky’s come to the lab itself.

“Hey, Inspector Gadget,” he says, as breezily as possible. “What can I do for you?”

“I, um.” Bucky steps a little further in. Dummy rolls over and taps at his arm. Tony braces himself, but instead of the expected outburst there’s just a flinch, and then the tiniest smile. “Hey, little guy.”

“That’s Dummy,” Tony finds himself saying. “Don’t mind him.”

“He’s…” Bucky thinks. “Cute?”

He can’t help it; he laughs. “Yeah, alright, you could call him that.” Dummy whirrs. “See, he likes it.”

Bucky rests his metal hand on Dummy’s claw, then looks up at Tony and that tiny smile drops off his face. “Listen. I wanted to thank you.”

Oh, he’s not having that. “I told you, the arm is nothing to thank me for, working on that thing is like cybernetic heaven for me.”

“I meant. The other thing.”

The grin freezes on his face. “What other thing?”

Bucky closes his eyes for a second, collecting himself for something. “With Steve. He told me about how you were together, and I. I think I fucked it up for you. But you let him go, so he could come to me.”

It takes a moment for Tony to find his voice as he stares down at his soldering iron. “It was always you he was looking for, Bucky. Even if you hadn’t turned up, we would’ve fallen apart.”

“I don’t know,” and his voice is suddenly much closer, because he’s just like Natasha with that silent Russian assassin thing. He reaches out with his flesh hand, squeezes Tony’s shoulder. “I think you would’ve stuck together. Sounds like you’re as stubborn as him.”

“Impossible,” Tony deadpans, and Bucky makes that tiny smile again, blue eyes shining a little. 

“Whatever, Stark. Thank you anyway. ”

He shrugs, looking away so Bucky doesn’t see his expression. “Don’t worry about it.”

There’s silence for a few moments. Then: “He does miss you. Give him a call sometime.”

“Maybe later,” Tony manages, then starts up the soldering iron again and bites his tongue until Bucky decides to take the hint and leaves.

He finds the number and address hours later, written in Bucky’s shaky capital letters.

_THIS IS MY NUMBER AND OUR NEW ADDRESS  
DONT BE A STRANGER  
PS YOURE A BETTER STARK THAN HOWARD_

*

_To: Bucky  
So. Hey._

_From: Bucky  
Hey, it’s the mad scientist. Long time no see._

_To: Bucky  
Yeah, sorry about that, you know how it is. Work and stuff. Also, well done on the texting, you sound like you’re not even partially robot._

_From: Bucky  
Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult coming from a Stark. Besides, texting is easier than speaking. And I was always into tech stuff._

_To: Bucky  
I admire that in a man._

_From: Bucky  
No idea what you were doing with Captain Nostalgic then._

_To: Bucky  
Ha freaking ha. _

_To: Bucky  
You guys wanna come over for dinner? _

_To: Bucky  
Nat, Clint, and Sam already said yes. Jane said even Thor was interested. So you’ll just be the boring grandpas if you don’t. Also I have a motorbike sitting in the garage that belongs to Steve._

_From: Bucky  
We’ll be there._

_From: Bucky  
Also, I’m sorry for choking you that one time._

_To: Bucky  
Eh, everyone I know has wanted to do that at some point. _

_From: Bucky  
You’re a strange man, Stark. _

*

So, dinner is a thing, and it’s like having the weirdest family ever. Thor eats literally a whole ham while Jane looks on, half-proud and half-amazed. Clint and Nat spend the entire time throwing knives at each other, but hey, that’s their life choices and who is Tony to stop them? Especially when Sam appears to be judging the contest, and he's at least the second most responsible adult in the place.

Rhodey and Pepper are hanging out in the kitchen, because Rhodey makes a mean cocktail and that means he’s Pepper’s favourite, which, ouch.

Ostensibly, Tony is in the kitchen with them, but in reality he’s watching Bucky and Steve being just. So in love it hurts, it really actually physically hurts. Sometimes one or the other of them looks up and sees him not-watching them, but they don’t seem offended.

“Hey.” Pepper says gently, touching his arm. “Stop torturing yourself.”

He manages a small smile, shrugs back at her. “You know me, it’s what I do best.”

“Either let it go or make something new,” Rhodey says. "You might be missing out on something you didn't know you could have."

“The hell does that mean?”

His two best friends exchange a glance, and oh god, it’s happened, a Rhodey/Pepper combo. Rhodey gestures with his chin, and when he turns around Bucky and Steve are both looking back at him. “Go find out,” Pepper says.

And who is he to ignore Pepper, really? She’s got it more together than any superhero he knows. He heads over to the couch with his beer, drops down on the opposite end to them.

Steve is sitting like a proper person, but Bucky has his legs stretched right across the cushions, head leaning on Steve’s shoulder while he fiddles with a tablet. “So. How are you two finding domestic life? Bored yet? Because I have this great idea for a new arm, totally new alloy, and maybe a rocket launcher if you want one--”

“Absolutely no rocket launchers,” Steve immediately interrupts. Bucky rolls his eyes, makes a face like _can you believe this guy._ “I saw that, Barnes.”

“How? I’m not even facing you.”

“I know you,” Steve says, and then points at Tony. “And I know _you,_ too, so no sneaking off to your lab with Bucky to fiddle with that thing.”

Tony looks at Bucky. “When are you gonna dump Captain Party Pooper?” he asks, and then ducks a cushion thrown with super-soldier accuracy. 

The rest of the evening is...well, it’s not awful. He doesn’t even move on to the whiskey, though having Steve, Pepper, and Rhodey all in the same room probably has something to do with it. Eventually everyone says their goodbyes - Clint with an arm draped over Natasha because he still has the constitution of your average American - and it’s just him and the happy couple. Shit.

He clears his throat, moves Bucky’s legs from where they’ve somehow migrated over his knees. “So, I guess I’ll just. Leave you to it.”

“Tony.” He turns. Steve clears his throat, looks at Bucky, looks back at Tony. “We were thinking.”

“I highly doubt that,” Tony says, and gets poked sharply by Bucky’s toe because they ran out of cushions. “Hey, ow! You got metal feet as well?”

“Listen to the nice man,” Bucky says. “It’s important.” Then he puts his legs back where they were, draped over Tony.

“Like I was saying,” Steve continues. “We were thinking we might come back to the Tower. To stay, this time. If we were, uh. Welcome.”

That’s. Unexpected. “Of course you’re welcome,” Tony says, confused, but in a happy way. “Any time, however long you want. You know that.”

“Oh, for--” Bucky growls, and then Tony has an armful of Winter Soldier and a kiss as sudden and unexpected as the first time Steve kissed him, and no don’t think about that because he’s sitting right there and wait does that mean he’s okay with it and wow Bucky’s a good kisser, nice going Steve, and then Bucky’s pulling away. “So. Are we _welcome?_ ” he says, smiling, but his eyes are uncertain.

“Um.” He looks at Steve over Bucky’s shoulder. “You. You’re both.”

“My god,” Steve says slowly. “Buck, he’s speechless. You’re a miracle worker, no one on earth has ever witnessed this before, we may never see this day come again--”

Luckily, Tony has acquired a big stack of cushions, but his aim is way off and then both of them are laughing at him, damn them. Bucky sits back on his heels, still close enough to touch. “So?”

He clears his throat. “You’re both okay with this?” He meets Bucky’s eyes, which are surprisingly fond and that’s. Nice. “And by both, I mean specifically you, because it’s obvious Steve’s been missing my spectacular ass--”

“It was Bucky’s idea, jerk.”

He thinks _fuck it,_ which will always be his last thought before any major decision, and says, “So you’re okay with it if I…” And he kisses Bucky, thinks, _huh, this could definitely work,_ and then there’s a metal hand stroking through his hair and wow, there’s a kink he should’ve anticipated. He pulls away with what feels like inhuman effort, looks at Steve again, whose eyes are wide and dark.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice is deep in that way Tony knows so well, “Yeah, I’m definitely okay with that.” 

He feels Bucky laughing quietly before he sits up and moves backwards, and then Steve is there instead and Steve is finally kissing him again, just as heated as they used to. Tony wraps his arms around him and rolls them both pretty forcefully onto the floor, greedily taking Steve’s mouth because _damn him_ for leaving, _fuck_.

“I am so tired of saying I missed you,” he whispers against Steve’s ear.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Tired of hearing that too. Don’t leave me again.”

“We won’t,” says Bucky, who is suddenly right there next to them. “I’ve always been the one to stop him bein’ stupid.”

“Thank god you’re back,” Tony says with feeling, and gets another cushion to the face.


	14. Epilogue: And We're Gonna Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it =) When I first started writing this even I didn't see it ending up this way - my original idea for an ending was much sadder, and then I thought "huh, but what if..."
> 
> Thank you all for going on this journey with me =)

It’s not as weird as Tony would have thought, if it had ever occurred to him that he’d end up with a matched set of super-soldiers for boyfriends.

“I have nightmares,” he warns Bucky that night, and Bucky just looks at him like he’s some kind of idiot, and then he blinks and realises he is some kind of idiot. And turns out it is Bucky who wakes him and Steve up, thrashing and doing this thing where he doesn’t scream but sort of grunts instead, like he doesn’t dare actually open his mouth even in his sleep.

Tony lets Steve talk him down so he can do it next time, watching through the dark as Bucky comes back to himself, piece by piece. The next morning, he eyes Tony over his coffee (because it turns out he’s as much of a caffeine fiend as Tony is, which is impressive). “Changed your mind yet?”

“Not in the slightest, Mr Roboto,” he says, and kisses him cautiously when he looks doubtful, because they both know how to be with Steve but being with each other is something they need to learn. And Tony is totally happy to do that.

“Sir,” Jarvis says, “I feel I should advise you that Ms Potts is on her way up to your floor.”

He rests his forehead against Bucky’s. “To be continued,” he promises, and turns to the elevator just as Pepper steps through.

“Morning, Tony,” she says, still scribbling something down. “Listen, I just need you to look through these design requests, see if anything sounds interesting or--oh. Hey, Bucky.” Steve chooses that moment to step out of the bathroom in what must be the tiniest towel Tony owns. “And...Steve.” Pepper’s smile spreads wickedly. “Nice to see you both looking so well.”

Steve blushes from head to foot while Bucky hides his smirk in his coffee cup. “Hi, Pepper.”

She turns to Tony, one eyebrow raised. “Can I have a word?”

“You’re the boss.” He follows her out onto the balcony. “So, what are they dumping on me this time?”

“Never mind that. You’re dating _both_ of them?”

He can’t help grinning at her. “Rhodey said to make something new.”

“You are unbelievable,” she says, but it sounds like she means it in a good way. “Now choose one of these projects so you can get some exposure and please let me know before you say anything to the press.”

“About the projects or about my spectacular sex life?” She smacks him lightly on the arm. “Hey, be careful, I’ll take this to human resources, this is definitely abuse of power--”

“Anthony Stark, you leave Pepper alone,” and Steve yanks him back through to the living room, thankfully having found his clothes. “Pepper, give me whatever it is, I’ll make sure he looks at it.”

He makes his best shocked face. “Are you managing me?” 

“Yes,” says Bucky. 

He looks at Pepper. “This is my life now.”

“I’m sure you deserve it,” she says, and saunters out. 

Steve immediately kisses him on the neck, dropping the papers on the table. “Come back to bed. Both of you.”

*

_From: Rhodey  
I am weirdly proud of you._

_To: Rhodey  
You should always be proud of me. I’m amazing._

_From: Rhodey  
I’m glad you’re happy._

_To: Rhodey  
I really am. Look, here’s a smiley face to prove it =)_

_From: Rhodey  
So, the burning question. Who’s your plus one for the next red carpet event?_

_To: Rhodey  
Both of them. It’ll be the best surprise the tabloids have had in years._

_From: Rhodey  
I look forward to seeing that. _

*

“Sir, you have a call from an unrecognised number.”

The hackles rise on Tony’s neck, because that’s never good and both Bucky and Steve are on a mission this week. “Any voice recognition?”

“They have not spoken yet, sir.”

“Put them through.” There’s a small click. “If this is a homicidal bad guy, I’m going to be very upset.”

“Uh, no, it’s not,” a familiar voice says. “Should I be insulted?”

Tony literally drops everything. “Bruce, baby, how the hell have you been?”

“Not...not so great, actually. I’m, well, I’m kind of a bit more on the run than usual because turns out the little bits of HYDRA that are left could really do with someone with my expertise, and they don’t really take a polite no as an answer, so--”

“Come and stay here,” Tony says instantly. “You have a floor.”

There’s a long pause. “I have a floor.”

“Yep, meditation room, Hulk-proof, super secure, everything my favourite rage monster needs. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“Um. I’m sort of. In a village in West Africa.”

That explains the crackle on the line. “Sounds perfect, quinjet can do that easy,” Tony says breezily, grinning all over his face because _Bruce_ and he’s missed him. He gets up, writing a quick note for whoever finds it first. “I’m on my way. Also, you’re coming to Thanksgiving.”

“...okay?”

“Right answer. Now give me your coordinates.”

Less than an hour later, he’s flying out to fetch what he thinks of as the last of his super-family. “Arrival estimated in 5 hours, 29 minutes, sir.”

Tony smiles.


End file.
